


Brienne to the Rescue

by CaptainTarthister



Series: The Lannisters Are Coming [31]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brienne is the Best, F/M, Family, Love, Romance, Sex Swing, Sexual Content, Unrequited Love, friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:22:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 44,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The many roles of Brienne in people's lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mommy

“Two weeks,” Jaime groaned against Brienne’s mouth. “ _Two fucking long weeks_. I missed you, wife.”

Brienne’s laugh was cut off by another passionate kiss. She threw herself into the wild tide of his kisses, her hands just as frantic on him as his were on her. Jaime sucked and nipped her throat until he reached her breasts, where he sucked and nipped the warm, freckled flesh though her shirt. "I missed your tits," he gasped. "Missed your red face. Your cunt." He yanked her shorts down her long legs. Her eyes were blue fire as she looked at him, her palm rising to touch his cheek. He groaned, eyes shutting briefly as he kissed it before turning to her. "The most astonishing, beautiful eyes. _You._ I missed you."

Her hard chin quivered. "I love you." 

“I’m keeping my cock in you until morning,” he vowed, rising to take her mouth again. “It’s not enough but it’ll do.”

“Yes, Jaime. Please,” she begged, shoving her tongue in his mouth. 

They kissed some more before Jaime licked her throat to navel until he was nuzzling her damp, blond curls. 

“Jaime,” Brienne groaned, closing her eyes and her mouth falling slack. Her steady breathing quickened to high-pitched gasps as her hips thrust against her husband’s wicked and, oh gods, very long tongue. “Oh—oh— _oooh_ —“

Her mind was thick and heavy with the sensations Jaime was spinning from between her legs but the long, slow whine of a door opening still reached her. Eyes widening, she whipped her head toward it and screamed as it opened. She slapped the figure moving under the blanket repeatedly, hissing until a hard slap on the head got him stilling. 

“What the fuck—“Jaime complained, pushing the sheets back from his head to sit up. Brienne would have screamed again at being exposed if not for the embarrassment that flung a red wave at her from head to toe as Drew, completely oblivious to what his parents had been doing, ran toward the bed.

“Mommy, I had a bad dream.” He said, climbing to her side, blond hair mussed and rubbing his sapphire-blue eyes sleepily. Brienne recovered from her shock to put her arms around him. Jaime, flushing, fixed the blanket to cover her bare legs as he rolled to the other side. He made sure he was covered too. They eyed his shirt and boxers kicked to the edge of the bed and her shorts on the floor.

“Oh, it’s just a dream, sweetheart,” Brienne comforted Drew, rocking him in her arms. She kissed his golden head. She was still panting, as was Jaime. Though they were clearly frustrated, their son was the priority right now. “It won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“Can I sleep here, Mommy?” 

Jaime and Brienne looked at each other over his head. Unaware of the longing looks happening around, the boy continued, “I’ll protect you, Mommy. You were crying.”

Jaime hid a laugh as Brienne, whose redness had receded, flushed again. Grinning, Jaime lay on his side, chin cupped in his hand. He rubbed Drew’s back. “Mommy’s not hurt, Drew. Tell you what, you stay here until you fall asleep and then I’ll put you back to your bed, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy. But I want Mommy to do it.” Drew told him. He looked up at her, eyes big and pleading. “Please, Mommy?”

“Of course.” She kissed him on the forehead and leaned back, still holding him in her arms. 

“I love you, Mommy. Can I have some water?”

Jaime snorted, unable to contain the beginnings of a laugh. Two pairs of gorgeous blue eyes looked at him—one glaring, the other curious. He smiled back innocently and opened his arms. “Come here, you.” He said to Drew. “We’ll wait while Mommy gets you water.”

Jaime adjusted the blankets to make sure his lower body remained hidden as Drew was passed to him. While Drew was distracted, Brienne quickly leaped into her shorts. Jaime couldn’t hide the proud grin in his face at her shaky steps. He looked at her over Drew’s head as she ran her fingers through her messy, shoulder-grazing pale blond bob before heading for the door. As she opened it, Drew suddenly turned around.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You’re my hero.” 

Brienne’s eyes softened. Jaime smiled at her then whispered something in Drew’s ear. Something told her to stay. She couldn’t help the amused grin teasing the corners of her lips as father and son appeared to have a serious conversation before Jaime nodded solemnly and Drew turned to her again.

“Daddy says he loves you very much.” Then Jaime whispered something in his ear again. Brienne gulped at the heat radiating from his green gaze. Drew rolled his eyes impatiently at his father but he was all sweet, sleepy smiles with her as he added, “And you should hurry.”

Brienne blushed, bowed her head and left the room.


	2. Best Friend (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Ellaria spy on Oberyn.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Brienne hissed as she leaned as far back as possible on the driver’s seat while keeping her head angled towards a house with white picket fences. “Ellaria, there is no way in the world that Oberyn is cheating on you.”

“Easy for you to say. Jaime wouldn’t dream of fucking someone else because he knows you’ll break every bone in his body,” Ellaria whispered back, leaning across her as she peered through binoculars. “My husband is a prince—“

“Ex-prince.”

“Still a prince, devilishly handsome and women throw themselves at him all the time. It’s just a matter of time before he breaks.” Ellaria muttered. Still looking through the binoculars, she crawled over Brienne until she was lying half on top of the much taller woman.

“You know, we can just knock on the front door.” Brienne suggested as Ellaria squirmed on top of her trying to get a better look. Ellaria, a former model with a dance background, remained lithe and graceful after three children. Brienne blushed at Ellaria’s movements, a series of seductive-looking rolls of her hips. Clearing her throat, she stared at the house again.   
“He’s been there for an—“ she checked the time on her watch—“ _Seven Hells, he’s been there for an hour!_ ”

“I told you! He’s fucking someone else!” Ellaria snarled. 

“Do we even know who lives there?”

“His whore. My husband isn’t very smart, turning over the finances to me. So I know that he’s made a deposit to the whore’s bank account three times. They sure don’t come in expected packages,” she added, snorting derisively at the picket fences around the house. 

“So who lives here?”

“Some bitch named Brenda Tully.” Suddenly, Ellaria gasped. “Fuck, Oberyn’s coming out!”

She scrambled off Brienne. Brienne sat up and started the car but Ellaria suddenly jumped out. “Ellaria!” she squawked after the woman who was crossing the street, her rich, midnight curls bounding behind her as she stormed toward her husband. Cursing some more, Brienne got out of the car just as Oberyn froze upon recognizing his wife.

“Ellaria, honey, what are you doing here?” He asked, his silky Dornish accent giving a hot dash of sexiness to his inquiry. Brienne rushed after Ellaria.

“Don’t you ‘honey’ me, you bastard!” Ellaria exploded. Oberyn looked puzzled as she stopped before him. Then she slapped him across the face. Hard.

“Ow! What was that for?” 

Oh gods, they were going to murder each other! Brienne threw her arms around Ellaria, who was preparing herself for another blow. 

“You—you—cheat!” Ellaria sputtered, struggling in Brienne’s arms. “Brienne, let go of me—“

“What? What cheat? Me?” Oberyn shot back, outraged even as he clutched his reddening cheek. Ellaria roared and because she couldn’t get away from Brienne, thought to use her instead. She threw herself toward her husband again, the surge of her anger lifting Brienne off the ground before they crashed onto him and toward the grass. Brienne grunted in pain as she hit the ground elbow and hip first, releasing Ellaria. Unbeaten, Ellaria rolled away from her smoothly to straddle Oberyn and try to him again, only to be stopped by his hands gripping her wrists. Brienne was clutching her painful wrist to bother with her friends. 

“You’re insane!” Oberyn gasped as he and his wife struggled against each other. “I don’t—“

“Liar! You’ve been depositing huge sums of money to your whore—“

“What the fuck—“

“The gods damn you! Let me go so I can make you eat dirt!” 

“WHAT IN SEVEN HELLS IS GOING ON HERE?!?”

Wearily, Brienne turned her head and saw a tall, broad-shouldered man with thick, wavy black hair except for the streak of white trailing from his widow’s peak. Bearded, his face was lined, indicating his age, but also his anger and appalment at the scenario in his yard. Ellaria shot to her feet, glaring at him then Oberyn. “Oh my gods!” 

“Are you alright, Mr. Martell?” The man demanded, ignoring Ellaria’s outburst.

Oberyn held up his hand as he struggled to his feet. He shot Ellaria a look before he strode to Brienne and pulled her up. He steadied her as she staggered to her feet and didn’t let go until she gave him a reassuring nod. Oberyn whispered an apology before turning to the other man.

“This she-devil is my wife,” he told the old man, brushing the grass and twigs from his hair and clothes. “Ellaria, come here. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“You—you betrayed me!” She screamed.

“Fuck, no!” Oberyn shot back. “This here is Brynden Tully, also known as the Blackfish. Also known as your favourite painter!”

Ellaria shook her head disbelievingly. “You’ve been cheating on me with my favorite painter?”

“For fuck’s sake, woman! I commissioned him to do a painting for you—for your birthday!” 

Shocked, Ellaria’s brown eyes widened for a moment before turning her attention to Brynden Tully. “Is this—is this true?”

“Your husband tells me you admire my work.” He said, crossing his arms and looking at her appraisingly before smiling slowly. “He didn’t tell me you’re a little spitfire.”

“A little. You fucking hurt me.” Oberyn growled at Ellaria.

“And me!” Brienne told them. Glaring at the Martells, she showed them her swollen wrist. “I think I’ve sprained it or something.” 

That night, Jaime returned to the living room with another arrangement of blue winter roses. Brienne smirked as he put it with the half-dozen others crowding the room. 

He joined her on the couch and draped her long legs on his lap. “Remind me again why you’re best friends with Ellaria, wife.”

“I’m beginning to wonder why I am in the first place,” Brienne muttered. She wore a cast from hand to her wrist, and looked more cross than usual. The pain pills were not helping her except for the glassy brightness of her sapphire eyes. 

“Gods. To think Oberyn had tracked down her favorite artist so he could make a painting for her birthday. She’s insane.”

“Well, you know what they say about the Dornish. They only know how to fight and fuck and fuck and fight.” Jaime remarked, looking around at the flowers surrounding them, “But Ellaria appears to be sorry.”

Brienne knew she was sorry. Ellaria had apologized as she and Oberyn helped her into the car, apologized some more while waiting for a doctor in the emergency room. By the time Brienne was being x-rayed, Ellaria was swearing her children’s life to servitude of her. Oberyn looked furious the entire time—at his wife. 

“I’ll let her stew in guilt for a while,” Brienne decided out loud. She waved her injured hand at him. “This is what happens when you don't stay out of people's business.”

Jaime cocked an eyebrow at her. “Holy shit, are you sure you’re my wife? My wife doesn’t guilt-trip people. I’d say she’s the most forgiving and understanding person in the world. And she gets off on helping people.” He teased.

“I forgive Ellaria.” Brienne said, winking at him. “But I guess having her think I’m angry at her still is proper punishment, don’t you think?”

“Not to mention that this room could use some flowers,” Jaime agreed. “The winter roses are almost the colour of your eyes, wife. There's an idea there for our redecorating.”

“They are nice,” she said, referring to the flowers. He chuckled but stopped when she glared at him.

Jaime gently reached for her injured hand. “But next time your best friend invites you to a stakeout, make sure you know everything and to take me with you. I can’t have my honourable, stubborn wife running off to help people and getting hurt. But given how Ellaria's managed to injure you and Oberyn, I think we'll have to up our insurance, don't you think?"


	3. Sister (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne rescues Tyrion.
> 
> ___  
> Takes place a few months after Slowly, Toward You, At Last, where Jaime and Brienne get engaged. No Margaery yet.

Brienne approached the dark red door of the split-level house, wondering why she had agreed to do this. She understood the need for her help. The lying part—and having to lie to Jaime—made her feel sick. He had given her a strange look as she uncharacteristically gave him a quick smooch on the lips before diving out of the apartment, only one part of her hair brushed and blouse buttoned askew. 

Reading from her cellphone, she followed the instructions: key under the false rock by the door, taped, the seven-digit alarm code that had to be typed upon entering, go upstairs with something sharp. She took the key, opened the door, punched in the alarm code. With dread, she looked at the stairs.

“Brienne?” Tyrion’s voice was faint. “Brienne, you there?”

“Yes, yes.” Brienne answered wearily, putting the keys in a bowl by the door and trudging forward. “Just let me get a knife.”  
In the kitchen, she picked the knife with the broades, sharpest-looking blade and marched upstairs. Tyrion’s bedroom was at the end of the hallway. Despite dragging her feet, she was there in no time, staring at it woodenly and wondering what had she done in a previous life to do something like this.

“Brienne, I heard you,” Tyrion suddenly spoke from behind the door, startling her. “Chop-chop, come on. I can’t feel my head!”

“I love Jaime,” Brienne muttered under her breath. “I love Jaime and I’m marrying him.” She glanced at her sapphire, princess-cut engagement ring as if for strength before opening the door.

And saw something that not even the harshest bleach could away from her eyes.

“Fucking Seven Hells,” she swore at the sight of Tyrion, _hanging upside-down from a sex swing._ Aghast and blushing heavily, she stared at the contraption suspended from the ceiling. The chains were all twisted and Tyrion’s face was smooshed against the harness. His short limbs were tangled around more chains—save for his cock. She gasped and threw a hand over her eyes, turning away. 

“Aha. Impressed by my cock, aren’t you?” Tyrion drawled. “Poor Jaime.”

“Shut up,” Brienne hissed, still holding a hand over her temple and trying to move toward him without looking at him. “Gods, Tyrion, why me? Why not Jaime? Or any of your friends?”

“I don’t have friends. Jaime would never let me hear the end of it,” Tyrion admitted. “Cersei would scream and take photos.” 

“Oh, and you think I won’t do anything?”

He shot her a lascivious smile. “You? No. You can be trusted. You won’t tell anyone about this. Besides, you’re family.”

“I’m fucking not.”

“You’re marrying my brother and Tywin would adopt you if he could. Families protect each other’s secrets. And look out for each other.” Tyrion looked at the chains and leather straps twisted around him. “Help me, please, good and kind sister Brienne?”

“I am going to have nightmares about this,” Brienne groaned finally daring to look at him. Her blush had spread down to her chest, Tyrion noticed, leering appreciatively at the exposed skin of her shirt. She held out the knife. “Here you go.”

“I can’t exactly move.”

“You actually want me to—to—touch you and—“ she sputtered, shocked.

“Never thought it was possible. A woman who wouldn’t realize the privilege of touching me.” Tyrion mused. Then, seriously, he added, “Uh, Brienne, please? You’ll have to do it.”

“What the hell happened?”

“I made the mistake of telling the lady that things will never be serious between us while swinging.”

Brienne hung her head and muttered, “Fuck you all Lannisters.”

“Well. You do fuck Jaime.”

Her eyes shot toward him with a menacing glare. Tyrion’s mismatched eyes blinked rapidly as he cajoled, “Please help me, Brienne.”

She sighed loudly. “You owe me big, Tyrion Lannister. Like, I own your life. I don’t care that you’re the president of KLUW. You owe me, you pervert.”

As she started untangling the chains, and groaning about the leather straps, Tyrion told her sweetly, “Brienne, have I mentioned that you’re my favorite sister?”

“Shut up.”


	4. Sister (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story happens a few months after False, Positive--where Cersei and Margaery find out they're pregnant and Tyrion asks Margaery to marry him. Takes place before Into the Wild.

“I love that you’re home early,” Brienne gushed, looking almost lovely with her sleepy sapphire eyes, carnation-pink cheeks and satisfied smile. She lay with her head on Jaime’s chest. Her hand roamed in soft, gentle circles over the lean slab of muscle and sinew. They were both sweaty and flushed. Jaime drew the blanket to their waist but didn’t bother straightening it properly. Their long legs stuck out of the edges. He chuckled as her toes brushed his calf.

“I love coming home early to fuck you,” Jaime agreed, an arm stacked under his head and the other wrapped around her waist. The sun was still out though the blue horizon was slowly purpling. He kissed her on the forehead and breathed in the scent of her sweat and musk-laced vanilla shampoo. With a gentle tug at her hair, he tilted her face toward him. Her full, pillowy mouth was swollen and red. Playfully, he bit down on her lower lip, sucking it hungrily as she moaned. The slow slide of his tongue across her lips caused her to shiver and coo. Reluctantly, he released her lips but not without smirking at her. She was the gods' gift. Those astonishing, breathtaking eyes. Crooked teeth with the endearing smile. Plump lips he could never kiss enough. He pulled her close again for another mind-blowing kiss, ruing his age. How if he were her age he'd be fucking her until sunrise and after. Gods above but Brienne's sweet cunt got so wet easily.

She hummed against his chest and curled closer to him. Jaime always made her feel so good that he was addicting. And after a day of being on her feet and teaching, fucking her husband was the best way to unwind. He got her all tensed and loose at the same time. Jaime was home early because LSM Creatives had just secured the Stormlands Travel Bureau account. Everyone in the office had been working round the clock so giving everyone half the day off was welcomed with cheers. Jaime was welcomed home between Brienne's long, sexy legs.

“Does it make us bad parents when we dispatch our nanny to keep the kids out of the room for an hour so we can fuck?” Brienne asked, looking up at him. The light in her eyes told him she was just teasing.

“Nah. We’re just horny.” Jaime looked at the clock on the bedside table. “Speaking of an hour, we still have time for a longish second fuck and a really quick third. Starting now,” he said, his green eyes gleaming as he suddenly maneuvered so he was lying on top of her. Her startled squeal was swallowed in his kiss. Brienne sighed against his tongue as her arms and legs went around his wonderful, muscular body. He rested fully on top of her, crushing her to the mattress. Her groan was that of sensual approval. 

Jaime was relearning the long, strong curve of her throat with his lips when a cellphone rang. Brienne grunted in annoyance, quickly turning so he was under her. She sought his mouth and kissed him hungrily as the phone continued to ring. When it persisted, she pulled away, annoyed. Jaime glared at the table. “Who the hell’s calling? That’s your phone, wife.”

“This better be good,” Brienne muttered, reaching for the offending, vibrating device and answering. Jaime moved with her and went on to suck and nibble on her shoulder, making her blush from head to toe. She shifted to her side. He mimicked her and continued kissing her body.“Um, hello?”

“Brienne?” It was Margaery. “Thank the Seven. I really need you right now. Can I come over?”

Jaime had somehow managed to adjust their positions so she was leaning over him. Brienne gasped as his lips wrapped around her nipple.

“Bree?” Margaery’s voice sounded far away. “I’m sorry, but is it okay? I know I’m being a bother—“

“Um—“ Brienne closed her eyes to concentrate on a reply but it only enhanced the sensations Jaime was bringing to her breasts. She shuddered before able to muster enough will to yank him away by the hair, making him whine in protest. Her hand quickly released him and she mouthed, _Sorry._ He smiled at her quickly and pulled her for a kiss. 

“—all so sudden,” Margaery was saying as Jaime buried his tongue in Brienne's mouth. “I’m desperate, that’s why I’m barging in but I’m so sorry. Please, please, Brienne. I need your help.” She sounded close to tears.

Now that was worrying. Brienne pulled away from his sexy, hot, sucking kisses, blushing furiously. She shot him a warning look when he attempted to pounce on her again. He rolled his eyes and held up his hands in mock surrender before she turned away to sit up. She grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around herself, drawing a disapproving frown from him.

f

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t over the phone. Can I come over?”

“Of course, Marge. Just buzz in.”

“Thank you so much, Brienne. I’m still ten minutes away. I really appreciate this.”

She had barely hung up when Jaime snatched the phone from her and tossed it to their feet. “Jaime, we should—“she started to say but his mouth was on her again, kissing her until her brain was mush. She clung to him, her head suddenly too heavy to be held upright. Through the heat of their kiss, she felt him moving and pushing her until the sheets were under her back.

“Yes, we bloody well should,” Jaime growled before hoisting her legs around his hips. Brienne arched her neck and moaned as he entered her. 

 

“You want me to do _what?_ ” Brienne bellowed ten minutes later.

Margaery’s sloe brown eyes pleaded with her. “Please?”

Margaery sat slumped and despondent on the kitchen counter, her mug of tea untouched. Her rich, brown hair hung loose and limp past her shoulders. Her cheeks, usually a healthy pink, were pale. The shapeless moss-green sweater, ripped jeans and sneakers had told Brienne upon seeing her that something was wrong. She hadn’t expected the bombshell Margaery dropped.

Brienne was still getting deliciously fucked by Jaime when the buzzer sounded. Hissing at her husband to finish, Jaime had grinned at her devilishly before suddenly flipping her on her stomach. She finished a lot faster this way. Brienne was grunting into the mattress as she came when Sansa knocked on the door and Jaime had to tell her, breathlessly, that they’ll be out in a bit.

Good thing Jaime’s fucked me before knowing this else I’d be pissed, Brienne thought, sitting heavily on a stool across from Margaery. A grimace curled her face from the force of her actions as she was tender between the legs. But she was relaxed, at least, and didn’t bite off Margaery’s head when the other woman admitted her true intention. 

“Why do you want me with you when you tell your grandmother you’re pregnant rather than Tyrion?”

“Grandmother doesn’t really like the Lannisters,” Margaery admitted. “She’s warmed up to Tyrion but when she finds out we’re not doing things in the right order—you know how she is. She’s the Queen of Thorns. That is not a title you earn by being sweet and pleasant.”

“But why me?”

“Grandmother likes you. I mean, she likes you a whole lot better than Tyrion.” Margaery said. “Tyrion wants to be there but if he is, there’s no predicting how she will go off. At least when I’m with you she’ll be calm.”

Calm. One of the many things Olenna Tyrell wasn’t. Brienne knew her as a member of the board of trustees of King’s Landing University-Westeros. Margaery’s grandmother was a tyrant.

“Marge, I’ve only met her once.”

“Yes, and you’ve made an impression on her. She thinks you’re singular. You know who else she described like that?”

“Who?”

 _“No one!”_ Margaery turned those big brown eyes on her again. “Please, Brienne? Be with me? I can't do this alone.” 

Against her better judgement, Brienne grunted, “When is this?”

For the first time since arriving, a smile lit up Margaery’s face. “Yay!” 

 

Brienne squirmed in her seat as Margaery engaged Olenna in another bland conversation regarding the origins of the tomatoes in their tomato and basil salad. Lunch was almost over and Olenna had yet to know about her granddaughter’s pregnancy.

Brienne didn’t like being involved in other people’s family matters but Margaery pointed out they were practically sisters so she had to. She had gotten so excited with Brienne agreeing to help her, despite misgivings. As the two women entered Wyman Manderly for lunch the next day, she reminded Margaery that she was here to support her and not to tell Olenna anything unless asked.

Nothing pleased Olenna. She thought the steak not medium rare enough, returned the vegetables on the side as they were overcooked and decried that the lettuce in the salad was not “crisp and fresh.” She had been unimpressed by the wine list presented with flourish by the waiter. 

Olenna went on to complain to Margaery that the ring Tyrion gave her wasn’t befitting a Tyrell heiress at all (“Has the Lannister fortune dwindled for you to have that ring?” She scoffed, squinting at the rock on Margaery’s finger). She talked about the atrociousness of a rather than a sit-down meal for the reception and bemoaned that the Myrrish lace available in King’s Landing was not the best kind. Through it all, Brienne nodded quietly while Margaery playfully rebuked her grandmother for finding fault in everything.

As Brienne nudged at Margaery’s ankle to talk about her pregnancy, Olenna took a sip of her water and peered at the two women quizzically. “Brienne, dear, it is lovely to see you, of course, but I wonder what my granddaughter has to say to me to bring you along. Unless, you’re the one who has need of me?”

“Oh no,” Brienne answered, quickly. “Not at all. Margaery invited me and I couldn’t, er, say no. So you think the wedding preparations will take a year?”

“Of course. We can’t do a rush job. `Spontaneity’ is another word for `rush.’ Tyrells don’t rush.” Olenna told her. 

Brienne glanced at Margaery, who was smiling too widely. Brienne feared her teeth would crack. 

“I’m sure we need not wait a year, grandmother. Tyrion and I already live together.”

“Hush, not so loud!” Olenna admonished her.

“Oh, I’m a woman grown. And engaged.” Margaery said defensively. Then she took a deep breath, “Grandmother, we don’t have a year.”

From under the table she reached for Brienne’s hand. Brienne nodded and enclosed it around hers. She squeezed Margaery’s hand.

“And why is that? Nothing that is rushed ever comes out well, Margaery.”

“We don’t have a year,” Margaery began, “because your grandchild will be born seven months from now.”

She squeezed Brienne’s hand.

Olenna, puzzled, demanded, “What did you say?”

“I’m pregnant.” Margaery exclaimed, too loudly. People from the other table looked at them. Brienne’s cheeks pinked as Margaery suddenly burst out laughing. It was the sound of silver bells. “Oh, gods. I’m pregnant, grandmother.” Her other hand rubbed her belly. “I’m having Tyrion Lannister’s baby.”

“WHAT?” Olenna Tyrell bellowed, making both Margaery and Brienne jump. Still shocked, she demanded, “How did this happen?”

Margaery, refusing to be intimidated, said cheekily, “Why, by having sex of course. Tyrion and I have sex often.”  
“Don’t you sass me, child.” Olenna snapped.

Panicking, Brienne threw herself in the line of fire. “Uh, Tywin knows.”

The Queen of Thorns glared at her. “Tywin knew about the baby before I did? _Tywin Lannister?_ ”


	5. Best Friend (Part Two, a.k.a. Jon Snow's Heartkeeper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon has a computer crisis. Takes place a few months after Then Came You but before Slowly, Toward You, At Last.

If it were not Jon’s name that had flashed on the screen of her phone, Brienne swore she was talking to a hysterical woman. She was in the library depositing books at the drop when her phone rang. A dozen hisses and dirty looks were thrown at her. Embarrassed and blushing, Brienne ducked out of the library as quickly as she could, but not before getting a final admonishment from a librarian pointing sharply at a KEEP QUIET sign.

“Jon, calm down,” Brienne said, climbing down the steps of the library. “Calm down, I don’t understand you.”

Jon continued to prattle in a high-pitched tone. She frowned, catching snippets. “Crashed—paper—fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” 

When his voice resumed its natural, grim register, he said, “I’m fucked in the ass, Tarth, and I’m telling you, it’s not good.”  
“What happened?”

Again, Jon started shrieking. Brienne winced and held the phone away from her ear. People passing her shot her curious, odd looks and she blushed even more. When Jon calmed down again, she said, “Do you need me to come to your place?”

“Do you know what to do?” Jon demanded.

“Uh. I think so.” Though she had no idea what she had just agreed to do. Knowing Jon, it probably involved some girl. “Yeah. But let me call Jaime first to tell him I’ll be late for dinner.”

After hanging up, she placed a call to Jaime’s cell. “Hello?” he drawled in that molasses, knee-melting way of his that had her cheeks leap a couple of shades redder in the spectrum. She actually had to lean against the pillar. Stammering, she told him about Jon needing her help and she apologized about having to be late for dinner. 

“No problem,” Jaime told her. “I’ll be waiting. Besides,” he added and she knew he was just torturing her. Jaime was such a smug asshole. “This means you’ll make it up to me by letting me have dessert first.”

 _How did he do that?_ She wanted to rage at him. How did Jaime Lannister know how to leave her hot and panting like a bitch in heat? `Dessert’—an innocent name for a part of a meal a few weeks ago until he showed her _another_ meaning to it. Several times. Face hot, her entire body hot, she puttered a goodbye and he laughed in response. As she shoved her phone back in her messenger back, she toyed with the idea of sending Jaime a photo of her in panties. Except she only owned full, cotton panties and not the itty-bitty kind that would tear at the slightest movement. Just the idea of parading before Jaime in bits of lace was embarrassing.

Brienne biked to Jon’s apartment. Like her, he lived off-campus but in a slightly nicer area. Their scholarship covered tuition, books and a small allowance. Their TA duties got them the needed extra cash. 

She parked and locked her bike at his building. Once again, the elevator was out of order. Her long legs easily brought her to the fifth floor.

Jon flung open the door at her first knock. His hair, a shoulder-length, thick mass of dark curls, looked wild and frayed as if he’d been tearing at it. His dark eyes were big. A loud, audible sigh of relief puffed out of his mouth upon seeing her before throwing his arms around her. Instinctively, Brienne caught him in her arms, where Jon proceeded to heave himself up and wrap his legs around her waist. “Fucking hell, Snow, get off!” she grunted, half-gasping and laughing.

“Boy, am I glad to see you, Tarth.” He said, squeezing her again before leaping down. At five-foot-eight, he was shorter but his body was compact and muscular. His biceps strained against the worn sleeves of his t-shirt as he gestured at his computer. “My computer crashed.”

“You mean it fell?” Brienne inspected it for damage.

“No. I mean the software. Or the hard drive. I don’t know computers. But as I was turning it off, the screen suddenly displayed a sad face.”

Uh-oh. That wasn’t good at all. “Did you bring it to the shop or something?”

“I can’t! The paper I’m presenting tomorrow is there!” Jon suddenly wailed.

“Oh.” This was bad. Like, dragons and Seven Hells and greyscale outbreak level bad. Also with White Walkers. “Uh, you do have a backup, right?”

He looked like he was going to cry and shook his head.

“Notes?”

He pointed at the small pile of notebooks, books and papers on his bed.

“You _are_ fucked in the ass,” Brienne whispered.

“Brienne!” Jon whined.

“I'm sorry. We’ll just have to reconstruct the entire thing. You do remember what’s there, right? We’re doing this.” Brienne put her messenger bag on the table. As Jon continued to stare at her, she frowned and snapped her fingers. “Jon. Wake up. Snap out of it. You are presenting that paper tomorrow and if it requires us being up the whole night reconstructing the entire fucking thing, we’re doing it. Get to work.”

“Gods, Brienne. You really are something.” He breathed out.

“Shut up. I’ll just have to call Jaime, tell him I can’t make it to dinner.”

As she opened her bag to look for her phone, Jon cleared his throat. “Oh? You have a thing with Jaime tonight?”

“He’s made pot roast. Or, he had his housekeeper make pot roast.” Brienne clarified, scrolling down the screen to find his name. Jon watched her turn away and head for the window to talk to Jaime. He couldn’t hear their conversation but it had Brienne blushing deeply and hissing at him. When she put the phone away, her head was bowed but he could see that even her neck was flushed.

And it fucking _hurt,_ knowing it was another man that had done it to her. Jaime Lannister of all people. Jon wished he hated the guy—he was rich and too handsome and an asshole. But he seemed to have flipped for Brienne—they’ve been together for six months. From Jon’s web search, Jaime Lannister had never been with a woman longer than a week until Brienne Tarth.

Until Jaime put a ring on Brienne, however, Jon considered it fair to try winning her over. He didn’t have Lannister’s money, looks and cockiness but he knew Brienne better. Probably loved her longer.

Brienne got them working soon after the call. She praised him for marking passages from his notes and books with sticky strips so they didn’t have to read the entire thing and he felt mighty proud of that. Her eyes were blue and clear as she had him recount a point he’d made on his paper, pen poised over a notepad as she listened intently. As she sat beside him, poring over the texts, he caught a whiff of her clean, vanilla scent. He almost admitted right then that he had a back-up of his paper in a flash drive stashed in his underwear drawer. But if he did, she would not only pummel him but also accuse him of making fun. Worse, think ill of what she had with Jaime. She was a lioness about the man.

So Jon will take what he could get—a few hours, the entire night—just as long as her pretty sapphires were on him in that focused, intent way. 

A sudden knock on the door had them looking up, puzzled. Brienne lay on her stomach in his bed, scribbling. Jon was stretched out beside her, trying not to be mesmerized by her brittle, straw-blond hair and the freckles scattered on every surface of her skin. With great reluctance, he slid off and trudged to the door.

“Pizza delivery,” a guy in Umber’s Pepperoni uniform announced, thrusting a huge, flat box right toward Jon’s nose. “With extra cheese and anchovies, thin crust.”

“Did I just hear pizza?” Brienne asked, sitting up. She ran toward the door and stood beside Jon. “Oh gods, I’m starving,” she groaned in a way that had Jon thinking of tangled, rumpled sheets and sweaty, flushed skin.

“We didn’t order pizza,” Jon told the guy, clearing his throat. 

“Oh, somebody did. Uh,” The guy pulled out a slip of paper from his pocket. “Oh yeah. Says here `Jaime Lannister sends his regards.’ Don’t worry,” he added quickly, catching Jon’s frown. “It’s paid for, including tip.”

“He continues to pile on the list of why I love him,” Brienne said, grinning as she took the pizza. "I'd say we earned ourselves a break, Jon. Come on, close the door and come here. I'm starving!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We find out in False, Positive that Jon thought himself in love with Brienne. He cals her "Heartkeeper." He left King's Landing for Winterfell at the end of Then Came You. He did get an offer from Winterfell University but it was Jaime and Brienne's deepening relationship that ultimately drove him to leave. 
> 
> In this chapter, he's still hopeful about Brienne but knows he realized how he feels about her only when another man came along.


	6. Partner (Part One, or where Brienne is a lioness)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brown and Addam see Brienne. She lays down the law.
> 
> Takes place after I am Yours and Your Are Mine but before Chapter 7 of Meet Me At Midnight.

Brienne knew something was up from the moment she spied Bronn and Addam waiting for her outside the classroom. They were quick to assure her that Jaime was alright and she made them swear repeatedly he really was. Maybe because the doubt remained on her face and she was giving them a stare-down that had sent many jocks quaking and crying for their mothers. 

The two men glanced helplessly at each other and admitted they had come to see her for regarding Jaime.  
She crossed her arms and continued to stare at them. Addam, who was Jaime’s height, actually stepped back as if she’d advanced and found himself stumbling against the chairs behind him. Bronn’s gray eyes drifted to the ceiling. He was shorter than Addam but thicker in bulk. Despite his impatience and his clear refusal to be intimidated by a woman who could snap his neck like chicken bone with her bare hands, the flicker in his eyes betrayed his uncertainty. He gestured at the chairs behind them. 

“May we sit down, Brienne?”

The proper, formal grammar got her thick, pale blond eyebrows hitting her hairline. Brienne nodded then walked around her desk to take her seat as well. Though sitting down, she seemed to loom over them but at least, the frown had dissipated. Slightly.

“Out with it, you two.” Brienne said, startling them. Seeing their reactions, a dark pink blush coloured her cheeks but her frown returned. “If Jaime’s alright and you’ve come here to talk to me about Jaime, I’m betting you want me to do something because you’ve done something that would upset him.”

“Ah!” Addam clapped Bronn on the shoulder. “I told you she’s smart.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Addam cleared his throat.

“Brienne, we’re friends, right?” Bronn asked.

She looked at him. “Yes.”

“I respect you. And like you. My favourite thing about you is you give rich boy the ass-kicking he deserves, ah, sometimes. I mean, we can do it, Addam and I. But you’re better. Loads better, actually.” He smiled at her.

“Bronn, being as we’re friends we both know that you don’t normally speak this way. Out with it.” 

“Okay. Fine. Here it is.” Bronn leaned forward then suddenly paused.

Addam looked at him expectantly. So did Brienne. When Bronn clearly looked like he’d forgotten the words of the Common Tongue, Addam sighed loudly and blurted out, “Daenerys Targaryen wants to hire LSM Creatives for her advertising campaign.”

_“What?”_

Brienne’s whose earlier blush had begun to recede, flared a wild, quick red at Addam’s announcement. Sensing approaching catastrophe, Bronn quickly said, “I know, we know, Jaime regarding Aerys—“

“You guys were there when Aerys Targaryen bloodied Jaime’s name!”

“Yes, we were—“

“And you’re making, what, backdoor deals with his daughter?” Brienne looked outraged, betrayed and disappointed all at once. Addam hung his head. Bronn felt like shit. _If Lollys finds out, she’s going to castrate me._

“No, no, no, we didn’t. Brienne, you have go to believe we didn’t.” Addam, panicking looked at Bronn as if for confirmation then whipped back to Briene. “She called us. LSM Creatives.”

“You could have said no.”

“We did. I swear to the gods we did.” 

Brienne glared at him then at Bronn. He held up his hands. “You have our word, Brienne. It’s not on paper or anything but Jaime’s our friend. In our book, he didn’t do anything wrong. He was just an idiot. We wouldn’t want to work with anyone who fucked him.”

“Anyone related and connected in any way to the person who fucked him in the ass,” Addam clarified. Again, Bronn’s eyes veered to the ceiling. Brienne grimaced.

“Much as we don’t want to, we might have to.” Bronn told her. “LSM Creatives is rising steadily but to knock it out of the ballpark, to ensure that LSM Creatives continues for a long time, we need the Targaryen account.” 

“There are other accounts,” Brienne pointed out. “There are other ways—“

Bronn and Addam shook their heads.

“Is LSM Creatives in danger?” Brienne annoyance turned toward worry for Jaime. The agency was his dream.

“We’re good for the next ten years. Beyond that, we can’t say.” Addam replied.

“This is something you should be talking to Jaime about. Not me.”

“You looked ready to have our heads when we mentioned the girl. Think of how Jaime would be.” Bronn told her bluntly.

Brienne’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, gods.”

The two men looked at her hopefully.

“You want me to tell Jaime. About the account.”

They nodded solemnly.

Her eyes darkened. “Absolutely not. Are you insane? This is about your company. I am not part of that. My marriage to Jaime has nothing to do with what goes on with your work!”

“But Brienne,” Addam pleaded, “Jaime’s too emotional about this. We need this fucking account—“

“And you’re the ones who will tell him that. That’s your job. You’re partners. You’re friends. If that means anything to you, if you respect him as you claim to respect me you’re going to tell him the truth and not hide behind the man’s wife and have her do the dirty work.” Brienne shoved the chair back sharply as she shot to her feet. “Did you lose your balls coming here?” 

 

For the next three nights, Jaime fucked Brienne with a vigor that knocked the breath out of her and once, knocked her unconscious. He drank her cries, coming hard inside her.The extra roughness should be worrying but Jaime was playful as ever, filling her ears with filthy compliments about her extremely wet cunt, her indecently long legs, her heavenly tits with the ridiculously cute pink nipples. She _loved_ it. His emerald eyes twinkled as she blushed at his naughty words and tried to look away and he got off on that, growling that it made him want to fuck her more. She decided to shut him up by giving him a blow job. He gasped rich, extremely vulgar adjectives about her mouth and tongue and only when she sucked him off harder than she had before was he reduced to pants and gasps. Her jaw was sore afterward but she couldn't wait to make him speechless like that again.

After another amazing session between the sheets, Brienne slumped against Jaime heavily, clutching at him with her arms and legs. He chuckled breathlessly against her throat, his arms loose but steady around her waist. His half-hard cock was still inside her as her hips rested on his thighs, his kneeling position remaining steady despite their joined panting. 

As the bliss of their joining began to recede, Brienne’s unease returned. Since Bronn and Addam’s visit, she had wrestled within herself whether to tell Jaime what was happening or let him find out through his partners, his so-called friends. She didn’t want to call them because it would show that she thought them right, and she didn’t. She meant every word. However, neither could she ask Jaime because he’s wonder how she knew and to her, it felt like she’d betrayed him, still. Her attempts to lead him to that conversation were always thwarted by his easy smiles and kisses—not that she’d put up any token resistance. Jaime was a lusty, passionate man. In the last few days, he had become insatiable. 

When cool air hit their sweaty skin, they shivered. Jaime gently eased them down to the bed, pulling the blanket to Brienne’s chin first before tucking himself in. She turned to him as he stretched out beside her, shooting her a lazy grin that still brimmed with arrogance. 

“Uh, husband? How are things at work?” 

His chest rumbled with barely-restrained laughter. 

“We’ve practically fucked the night away and that’s what you want to know?”

She pursed her lips and hit him on the shoulder. He yelped then started laughing.

Her eyes blue daggers, she growled, “What’s so funny, tell me.”

“You’re not funny. But what you’re asking me and the way you’re doing it are. Still, my love, my wife, I beg for your forgiveness—ah! Brienne!” Jaime grunted when she pinched him. Panting against her ear, he retaliated by tickling her. 

Soon they were grabbing at each other, gasping their laughter, the blanket at their feet. Jaime slammed down on the mattress with an “Oomph!” as Brienne used her superior weight to put him there. His emerald eyes danced with amusement and love as he looked at her. She pinned his arms next to his ears and she straddled him. The column of his cock brushed the lower seam of her cunt.

“I’m a lucky son of a bitch,” he suddenly declared. “The luckiest.”

She shook her head then pulled away. She dragged the blankets from the edge of the bed and wrapped them around her. Puzzled, Jaime sat up, looking at her. She took a deep breath.

“Before I say what I need to say,” Brienne began, “please know that I am sorry for not telling you earlier. I have no excuse.”

Jaime, catching the seriousness in her tone, was suddenly grim. He bent his legs close to his chest to hide his nakedness from her, indicating he wanted to listen to her.

“Bronn and Addam came to see me the other day.” Then she proceeed to tell him everything that happened, right until when she threw them out of the classroom. When she was done, she looked helplessly at Jaime.

“Please know that I refused to be part of it, Jaime. But I didn’t think that my silence would be to participate in it. I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t—I was worried. Worried that you’d think I’m manipulating you. I’m not. I never will.”

She continued to sit at the foot of the bed, cocooned in the cashmere blanket. He stared back at her, the flexing in his jaw telling her he was absorbing her words and gauging their impact. 

Suddenly,he said, “I know.”

“You knew?”

“It’s not like Bronn and Addam sat me down to tell me. Addam slipped about seeing you and you calling them pussies—“

“I did not! I told them their balls—“

“I know, Brienne. I really do.”Jaime told her softly. “I love that you put them in their place but I love even more your loyalty. I never thought I could inspire that. With anyone. That it's you makes it a lot better than you think.”

Brienne, touched at his words, looked at her fingers joined on her lap. 

“I didn’t know it would weigh on your conscience so much, though. But I do appreciate your telling me. I wasn’t expecting at all but thank you.” 

“I’ll never be disloyal to you, Jaime.”

“As am I. And I’ll never take yours for granted, wife.” He told her, giving her a small, warm smile. “You have no idea how I felt when they told me of it, Brienne. I was so fucking happy. Still am.”

“Is that why,” the words were out of her mouth before she thought better. Flushing, she added softly, “Is that why, uh, you’ve been more active lately—“

“That and because I could just eat you up sometimes.” Jaime moved forward and took her hand to kiss it. “Really, Brienne. Thank you.”

Thrilled and relieved, she said, “I’m your wife, Jaime. Of course I am.”

“You’re more than that. You’re my partner.” He kissed her hand again, chastely this time. “My true partner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We know Jaime accepted Daenerys' proposal so I didn't cover that here.


	7. Best Friend (Part Three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Brienne. Takes place after 35 Kisses and shortly before Chapter 9: Afternoon Nap (Part 2) in Meet Me at Midnight.

Even a blind man could see that Jaime and Brienne didn’t get much sleep, and it wasn’t because they were seven months along the family way. Brienne had that drazed, dreamy look on her face that made her blue eyes brighter and more vivid, and it wasn’t due to the sun in the room. She looked too happy looking at Drew and Ty arguing as to who had more bananas in their pancakes, looking up briefly when Jaime said something as he sipped coffee then finally giving those breathtaking blues to Jon. Though sitting at the table with them, he felt like an intruder watching through the window.  
After Sansa left, Jon had struggled to get back into the swing of things. Classes, administrative duties and his next book would keep him busy—and they did. However, months had passed since he had last looked at the book he was working on. The idleness brought by this much free time was driving him insane and he wondered if it was too late to cancel his sabbatical. 

It was pure luck that Renly lived in a vineyard with caskets of wine close by else Jon would have shot himself in the head for the miserable company. It wasn’t that Renly was wretched but the man had been broken and beaten inside and despite rude demands from Jon, he refused to disclose what happened. But after one week of a dejected Renly at the dinner table, he had enough. 

Brienne wouldn’t let him stay at a hotel. “You need friends right now,” she insisted when she picked him up from the airport, forehead shiny with sweat, cheeks the colour of ripe apples and heavily pregnant. Besides, she and Jaime had just moved to their house and there were lots of room. She had one teaching load this summer and so had the rest of the day off after class.

Though the Lannisters' intentions were good and their invitation kind, being with them and their family was a bigger punch to the gut than Jon had anticipated. He would always love Brienne, the love he had now was that of a friend yet also deeper than that, without name but real. He didn’t wish to have fathered her children, he didn’t wish to be the one riding between her legs every night (Jon’s room was at the other end of the hall but he could hear them through the window). Seeing them hold hands, exchange that intimate look that required no words to understand, at how happy they were with their beautiful children and two on the way reminded him of things he could have had. Things that would probably within his reach if he had done a better job with Sansa.

Gods, he missed her. The floral scent of her hair that lingered in the shower, her laugh on those nights he nuzzled her slim, ivory throat and pretended to be a hungry wolf. It made him want to claw walls when she organized linens by colour then shade and their clothes by sleeve length then colour then shade at first but he was soon schooled in the convenience of neatness and order. Being with Sansa made everything so easy—even mornings because he couldn’t wait to fuck her and make her gasp and moan as the sun rose. She made him want to take time but also gave him, to put it crudely, that bullet in the ass that drove him to do things well and fast so he could go home to her in their manse. Where by the fireplace he played with her auburn hair and wished himself an artist who could render the shade it acquired on canvas. Or when they made the living room their study area with books and papers spread on the table and the floor. Their presence was no distraction to the other but a five-minute make-out was needed, a fifteen-minute-fuck ideal. Well, it was only supposed to be fifteen minutes but he loved watching her full, creamy breasts jiggling hard as he pounded in her cunt. On her hands and knees with his cock in her, she would gasp and protest she had to study and he kissed her and fucked her some more to make her forget all but his cock. When he would relent, they only worked for an hour before retiring to bed, arms and legs tangled around each other, his nose pressed against the thick, soft mantle of her hair.

Though Jon felt like an outsider he couldn’t bring himself to walk away from the life he was witnessing. It hurt to see how happy Jaime and Brienne were because that had been him. Drew and Ty put images in his head of auburn-haired children, girls with Sansa’s sunniness and smile. Not even Taena Merryweather, the sinfully beautiful nanny, could make him forget. The old Jon Snow would have made a play for her, even if she didn’t swing his way, and would have probably convinced her to fuck him in the children’s room. Instead, her sensual beauty just made him long for Sansa’s sexy but wholesome appeal. 

Jon joined Taena and the children at the park. He liked Drew and Ty—they were smart, active children and while they clearly took after Jaime in looks, their disposition was their mother’s. They were playful and mischievous as all children were, of course, but they didn’t have to be told twice. He couldn’t help but laugh during breakfast when Brienne sighed loudly and told them to put their bananas away and just eat. The children had looked at her with awe.

After Taena put the children down for a nap, Brienne arrived home. Jon hadn’t been around when she was pregnant before, so he couldn’t say if this latest pregnancy made her look lovely and ripe or if it had been a similar situation before. The shine in her eyes and her wide, happy smile made his heart catch. She had never been graceful and every movement was punctuated by rippling flesh—especially her breasts. No wonder Jaime had a constant hard-on. 

“Hello, dear,” Brienne greeted Jon, kissing him on the cheek as she made her way to the kitchen with her bag and a package. “I have blueberry cheesecake.”

He smiled. She knew it was his favorite. Sansa made it for him, though. 

“Jon, would you mind making the coffee while I get changed?” Brienne asked, helping herself to a bottle of mineral water from the fridge. 

“No problem. Tea for you, right?”

“Ugh. Like I have a choice.”

While Brienne changed out of her blouse and slacks, Jon prepared the coffee and got plates. Taena shuffled downstairs a minute later, telling him that Brienne told her to help herself to cheesecake before leaving for the day. Her hours ended earlier on some days because Brienne wanted to spend more time with the children.

When Brienne retrned to the kitchen, she looked happier and relaxed in a shirt that was obviously Jaime’s and a pair of old shorts. Taena bade them goodbye and left through the kitchen door.

“Thanks for this,” Jon told Brienne as they sat down on the counter to eat. “I needed the sugar.”

“Come on, it’s the least I could do with the way my sons have attached themselves to you,” Brienne said, blushing. Drew and Ty have become quite attached to him. They had nagged him since the second night to either read them stories or tell them stories about the Night’s King. 

As they ate in companionable silence, he suddenly said, “Gods, but I missed you, Tarth.”

She laughed and gave him a stern look. “It’s Lannister, you idiot.”

“A tragedy,” he joked and got a punch in the arm for that. 

As he helped himself to another forkful of creamy cake, she remarked, “I’m glad you’re here, Jon. We didn’t get to talk much at my birthday.”

“It’s alright, Tarth.” He enjoyed her narrowed gaze. “I got to see you. And Renly was there. He and I were able to catch up.”

“How is Renly?” Brienne asked curiously. “The last time he was here he was in a, well, I think he was in a relationship with someone?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Our boy seems to have become a Silent Sister. Really. Even when I offered to accompany him to a gay bar I couldn’t snap him out of it.” Seeing the concern on her face, he rushed to assure her and reached for her hand. “Hey, don’t worry about him. I’ve been there for him. You tried talking to him. If he’s not going to let us in, there’s nothing we can do, Tarth. We’ll just have to let him be for now.”

“What about you?” Brienne didn’t display any awkwardness that he was still holding her hand. “How are you?”

He sighed deeply. “Surviving.”

Then he let go of her hand. 

“Not one have you made an inappropriate comment or tried to worm your way to my bed since you’ve been here.” Brienne reminded him.

He winked. “Are you inviting me to try?”

Her smile was fond and warm. “There you are.”

“I’m still here, Tarth. A bit battered. Broken in some places. Surviving. That’s what matters.” He patted her hand and helped himself to another slice of the cake. “Stop worrying about me. And this cake is fucking good.”

“Alright. I believe you.” Brienne said after a moment.

“Have I ever lied to you?”

She gave him a look and he rolled his eyes. “Really. You’re the only woman I haven’t lied to. And Sansa.”

Fuck the gods, even uttering her name hurt.

“I saw her.” Brienne said carefully. She sipped her tea then continued, “She’s here. There’s a conference at KLUW and she’s presenting a paper.” 

Jon didn’t know he was holding his breath until he let one out. Brienne reached for his hand this time and squeezed it. “Jon, I know you’re a tough guy. But sometimes, you don’t have to so tough just so people think you’re alright. The world won’t judge you if you’re not.”

“I hurt her, Brienne.”

“So you’ll leave things like that with her?” 

“What makes you think she wants to even see me?”

“She’s a lot like you. Surviving. But we know that can only take her so far. Same as you.” Brienne said. “Jon, you were happy with her, right?”

“We _were_ happy.”

“That’s reason enough.” Brienne spoke as if he’d confirmed something. Her hand released him. She took a bite of the cake and moaned. “Fuck, that’s good.”

“Reason enough for what?” He demanded, confused.

Her teasing grin made him want to yank her by the hair but she was pregnant and much taller and stronger. “If you have to ask, you know nothing, Jon Snow.” 

“I really hate it when people tell me that.”

“But it’s so much fun. You wouldn’t deny a pregnant woman her fun, right?”

“Fuck me hard,” Jon groaned, digging into the cake. “You’ve been married to Jaime for too long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the friendship between Jon and Brienne in my universe, what can I say. 
> 
> ____  
> What has happened to Loras and Renly? Don't worry. They're popping up in one of the next installments.  
> ___  
> Okay, so while it is really unethical for a teacher and a student to engage in a relationship even if they are both of legal age and consenting, I'm thinking the sabbatical gives Jon some escape from the rule. I don't know. I don't know these things. There's also how Brienne ships Jon and Sansa. She's a romantic.


	8. Mommy (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne, the children and a cat named Brightroar.  
> And an angry Jaime.  
> ____  
> A few things:  
> 1\. This takes place years after The Conquest of Casterly Rock  
> 2\. Which is why there are people there that haven't been in other installments.  
> 3\. I'll be writing the stories how they came to be eventually.

After an afternoon of crying that involved a lot of patience and frustration from Brienne and Taena, five-month-old Alysanne Belle’s emerald green eyes finally closed to sleep. Brienne slowly tiptoed away from the carrier where the baby slept. She would probably prefer the crib but this summer was particularly brutal and the air conditioning didn’t seem to reach upstairs, where the bedrooms were. Thus, why mother and daughter were in the study downstairs. On the massive oak desk that looked out into the yard, Brienne typed her next book. Towards the other was the carrier.

It was a good spot. The wifi was strongest here, it was cool, she could keep her daughter close by and watch over the other children. 

Right now, the four Lannister boys were gathered around one of the maple trees in the yard. Drew and Ty, now seven years old, were often mistaken for being two years older or more despite the roundness in their cheeks. Both brothers had freckles splashed across their cheeks and nose, and the spots now stood out clearer from their smooth, golden skin due to the weather. With them were four-year-old Jason and Michael, blond like their brothers, didn’t have freckles but they burned easily, due to the paleness of their skin. While the older twins tanned to a healthy golden colour, the younger set was slowly approaching vivid pink. They were all looking up at the tree.

Brienne, looking up from the computer, frowned. She stood up to open the window and called out to the boys. “Where’s your sister?”

“Jo’s with Taena!” Ty answered, briefly turning to her before looking up at the tree again.

“Okay!”

Brienne closed the window and returned to her seat. All children accounted for then. 

Slipping on her mental blinders, she threw herself into the writing, glancing occasionally at her handwritten notes. Slowly she advanced through the pages, thoughts like a steadily-rushing river. 

Suddenly, a shout came from the yard. Brienne pulled off her glasses to look out.

“Ty!” Drew was yelling. “ _Mommy will kill you!_ ”

“But he’s not coming down!” Ty protested. To Brienne’s horror, he was climbing up the tree.

Brienne threw open the window. “What is going on there?”

As she spoke, Taena burst through the yard from the kitchen, Joanna Blue in her arms. “Ty, get down from there!” She called out, walking as fast as she could.

“But Mommy, the cat!” Ty pointed up at the tree.

“What about—“

Alysanne Belle started crying.

Brienne hung her head, saved her work and took the carrier.

 

When she got outside with the carrier and its squirming and gurgling occupant, Taena was pulling Ty from the tree and admonishing him. Drew looked relieved while Jason and Michael continued to look up. Joanna Blue yawned, clearly bored, but she smiled upon seeing Brienne. With a squeal, she threw her arms around her mother’s legs.

“My darling,” Brienne said, smiling at her and ruffling her pale, blond curls. Joanna’s hair was thick, like Jaime’s, but pale like Brienne’s. Her skin ran to strawberries-and-cream and heavily freckled. Her eyes were bright blue. 

“Cat!” Joanna suddenly shouted. 

“It’s Brightroar,” Taena explained to Brienne. She looked up at the tree. “Apparently he’s been up for a while.”

“He’s hungry, Mommy. How will we he get down?” Jason asked.

“I told him not to go up so high,” Michael said defensively.

Ty rolled his eyes at his brother. “You saw him and didn’t see stop him?”

Brightroar. Brienne bit back a groan. _That darn cat._

For over a year, the children had nagged their parents for a pet. Not a specific pet but all kinds of animals. Jason wanted an iguana. Drew wanted a horse (“Get rich like your grandfather first,” Jaime told him). Ty wanted a snake. Michael wanted a hamster. Jaime and Brienne didn’t have pets growing up—Tywin didn’t allow them and Brienne simply never thought of asking either her uncles or her father. When they sat down their boys to talk about a pet, they laid down several conditions: first, it was their responsibility to bathe it, feed it, and clean up after it, second, they were to all get a turn taking care of it so nobody will complain about doing more than the other, third, the only non-human creature allowed in the house was to have four legs and nothing more nor less, couldn’t be slimy, didn’t spit, and not poisonous (Brienne looked at Ty pointedly when she told them this), and fourth, they were to get the pet from the pound. 

Thus, how Brighroar came to their lives.

For two weeks, the children were crazy over the marmalade, green-eyed cat. Two weeks. The honeymoon ended when Brightroar coughed out a furball right onto Jason’s shoes, while he was wearing them. The fucking cat slowly unleashed his true diva-ness by turning his nose up at the dry cat food they bought him. He preferred tuna or liver. Then he got fur everywhere and would end up fast asleep in the strangest places—once, Jaime discovered him stretched out on his expensive loafers. Then there was also the time he had suck into the laundry and almost gave Brienne a heart attack when he shrieked as he was spun in the washer along with the sweaters. 

Jaime also thought Brightroar was a pervert in another life. They’ve caught the cat watching them fuck more times than they could count. Or he would treat them as his carpet—walking over Brienne’s stomach as Jaime fucked her with his tongue, for example. He also bit Jaime in the ass once while they were fucking. Brienne adamantly refused to kiss it better.

The cat was a high-maintenance, useless ball of fur that the children saw as a prince, though. 

“When he’s hungry he’ll come down, “ Brienne explained to the children.

“But Mom, he’s been there for hours.”Ty said.

“He’s hungry.” Jason added.

“And scared,” Michael told her solemnly.

Joann squealed again, “Cat!”

“Uh, Brienne, I can take the girls,” Taena said, holding her hand out for the carrier Brienne still held. She nodded her thanks and passed Alysanne and Joanna to her. The three returned to the house.

“Brightroar’s scared,” Michael repeated. “Look!”

Brienned look up to where he was pointing. Probably because she was way taller than average, she said without thinking, “That’s not too high.”

“Oh! Will you get him, Mommy?” Drew suddenly asked.

“What! You can’t tell Mommy that!” Ty protested.

“He must be thirsty too,” Michael thought to add. Three pairs blue eyes and one green begged her. Her heart melted.

Seven Hells, Brinne thought, knowing she was cornered. “Alright. But if he doesn’t come with me, I’m not going back up there.”

“Brightroar likes you,” Ty told her, batting his blond eyelashes at her angelically. Her son was too much like her husband sometimes. “It’s Daddy he doesn’t like.”

“Fine. I’m going. But again, if that cat doesn’t have th brain to realize he’s being helped, I’m not going back up there and he’ll just have to toughen up, alright?” Brienne looked at the tree, assessing how she would accomplish the climb. She grasped the first limb. “Here we go.”

 

When Jaime pulled up behind Brienne’s SUV in the driveway, he saw his sons pointing at the tree and talking excitedly to themselves. He didn’t think much of it. 

He got out of the car and called out to them. They gave him limp, distracted waves and that hurt, honestly. He was glad to be home and to see them but clearly, whatever was going on in that tree was a lot more important that good old, boring Dad. At least there was Brienne. He wondered if he could coax her for a quick fuck either on her desk or the bed. Both were tired from work commitments and Alysanne, who had decided last week that her parents didn't deserve sleep. He shuffled to the kitchen, where Taena was shoving something in the freezer. Joanna shrieked upon seeing him and threw her arms around his legs. Now that was the welcome he wanted. “Hey, there, sweetheart,” he murmured, picking her up. He peeked into the carrier and saw Alysanne fluttering her eyes then continuing to sleep. He kissed her on the forehead and continued to hold Joanna.

“What’s got them all excited out there?” Jaime asked Taena.

Taena sighed. “It’s the cat. Brienne’s up in the tree trying to get the cat.”

_“What?”_

As Jaime stormed from the kitchen still carrying his daughter in his arms, Brienne was beginning her descent, the loudly purring Brightroar clutched to her chest. Cheers of “Yay, Mommy!” and “You’re the best, Mom!” resounded throughout the yard. By the time Jaime reached them, a pair of freckled, pale legs were climbing down the lower limbs, followed by muscular thighs, broad hips encased in cut-offs, a toned slab of freckled stomach peeking from the gap between the t-shirt and shorts, upper torso and finally, sapphire eyes and messy blond hair. He gulped. 

As Brienne made a dismount worthy of any professional gymnast, Jaime continued to stand apart from the children save for Joanna, glowering at her. Brienne handed Brightroar to the children, who exploded in cheers, startling the still-panicking cat. Brightroar leaped out of Ty’s arms and sped for the kitty door--but not before suddenly snarling at Jaime. The children followed her. Joanna started kicking at Jaime so he’ll let her go. Reluctantly, he set her down and she took off after her brothers. Michael, who had been waiting for her, grabbed her by the hand.

Brienne stood before Jaime, pale cropped hair sticking out in all directions, deep pink from forehead to her chest. There were scratches on her arms and some on her thighs. “Husband,” she greeted him with a smile, oblivious to his growing temper. “It’s great to have you home at last.”

“What the fuck were you doing?” Jaime asked, his voice low and edgy.

“Ty was going to climb and get the cat,” Brienne answered, still unaware of the volcano she was awakening with her nonchalance. “I had no choice.”

“No choice?” Jaime echoed, his voice still soft.

“Look, I didn’t want to but they were clearly bothered and they wouldn’t let go and I had to work. Jaime?” For the first time, Brienne saw he was frowning. She stepped forward. “What’s wrong?”

When she was close enough, he grabbed her arm and held it up to her. She blushed. “Oh. That’s not from Brightroar. I got scratched by some branches.” She shook his hand away.

“Why the hell were you climbing a tree to get the fucking cat?” Jaime demanded.

“Like I said—“

“I don’t care what you said!” He suddenly exploded. “You _idiot,_ what if you got hurt? Seven bloods hells, you could have fallen, Brienne!”

“But I didn’t! Jaime, come on. I know it was stupid—“

_“You knew! You knew and you still did it!”_

“Speak louder.” Brienne’s stiff tone was cold water to his face. “I don’t think the neighbours in the next block heard you.”

Jaime growled something under his breath and grabbed her by the wrist. Then he yanked her after him as he charged back into the house. “Jaime! Ow! Slow down! Hey!” Brienne snarled as she tripped and stumbled after him. Her blue eyes were murderous as Jaime towed her behind him to the kitchen.

“Taena. Take care of the kids’ dinner, will you? My wife and I won’t be coming out anytime soon.”

 

“Jaime, you’re overreacting,” Brienne snapped as he shut the door behind them and pushed her roughly at the foot of the bed. She bounced on the mattress as she sat down, glaring at his back as he went to the bathroom. “You know that I was quite the climber back home in Tarth, didn’t you? The trees in our yard are midgets.”

Jaime returned with the medical kit. Brienne rolled her eyes. “Fuck me,Jaime, I only got scratched, come on!” She protested as he knelt in front of her, still looking like he wanted to throttle her. 

“Shut up. You knew it was stupid and did it anyway,” he grunted, getting out the cotton and a bottle of disinfectant. He grabbed right leg. “Look at this. That could have easily been a cut, wife. Scratches can also lead ot infections, you know!”

Without warning, he poured disinfectant right on it. It was wildfyre!

“ _Ow!_ Seven bloody hells—“ Brienne shrieked as Jaime dried it with cotton and pressed his lips on the pink scratch. “Oh.” She said softly, for his ears only. “Are you sure that’s safe?”

Jaime pinched the high bridge of his elegant nose.”`Are you sure that’s safe,;” he mocked in a high-pitched voice. Returning to his normal voice, he snarled, emerald eyes flashing.“You’ll climb up a tree taller than our house for that fucking cat and you ask me if it’s safe to kiss you with disinfectant. You do forget where you leave your brain, sometimes.”

She scowled at him. “I wasn’t in danger.”

“Oh, you were. What if that cat attacked you? What if you slipped, what if a branch broke? What if you break your leg or break your neck—Brienne,” his voice was grim, “what if something worse happened?”

“You really think I’m stupid enough to get killed climbing a tree?”

“If you’re stupid enough to climb a tree for a fucking cat, yes!”

Husband and wife glared at each other. Jaime was flushed and he looked like he wanted to smash her head. Brienne wore a similar expression then she looked away. Jaime let out a loud sigh and grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look at him.  
“Should I beat you to know how dangerous and stupid it was?” He whispered.

“If you do, I’ll break your nose and ribs,” she whispered back. "For starters."

“My stupid, idiot wife,” he muttered before pulling her down for a kiss. "Gods how I love you."

“My overreacting, idiot husband,” she hissed between kisses.

In retaliation, he bit her lower lip. She bit back. 

Still keeping his mouth latched to hers, Jaime rose to a kneeling position and she opened her legs to hold him closer. She buried her fingers in his hair while his hands roamed her body. The disinfectant that remained on his fingers touched some of the scratches on her arms and she hissed against his tongue. He laughed and pulled away from her.

“Best to get your clothes off, wife. I need to do a thorough inspection,” he said, rising to his feet and beginning to unbutton his shirt. 

“It’s only my arms and—oh.” Brienne’s cheeks flared to a delicious, sexy tomato red when she realized the subtext of his instruction. She crossed her arms. “If you think I’m going to fuck you after you’ve called me an idiot and stupid, think again.”

“You call me an idiot all the time and I still let you fuck me.” He said, grinning at her as he shrugged off his shirt and put his ripped chest and arms on display. There was no denying the feminine appreciation in her eyes, even as she fought it. “And you _are_ an idiot.”

He reached for his belt and tugged off his boxers and pants in one swoop. Brienne gasped upon seeing his cock. “Gods, you’ve been hard all this time? No wonder you’re pissed.” 

“I was pissed because you were doing something stupid and I got a hard-on around our children when I saw your legs from the tree. I'd much rather you climb all over me than a fucking tree. Come on, Brienne.” His eyes darkened with lust and his voice lowered to silk. “Let your husband inspect you so he can take care of you.”

“I prefer the disinfectant,” Brienne said firmly but Jaime was on to her—her eyes could never lie. She yelled as he suddenly threw himself on top of her. They smiled at each other before kissing a again, slowly and thoroughly. She moaned as their tongues slid against each other. Her breath hitched as he tugged at the neckline of her tank top until her small breasts were freed. She groaned his name as he sucked her nipples. As her arousal deepened, milk began to bead from her nipples. Her spine arched, flinging her arms to the sides in wanton delight and pushing her breast deeper into his mouth. He cupped the plump mound, drawing more milk before moving to the other.Jaime sucked hungrily. Then he rose on his elbows and slanted his mouth against hers, letting her taste her own milk. Their kiss was wet and sloppy. She grasped him hard on jaw, keeping his mouth open as she sucked his tongue.

Together, they removed the rest of her clothes. She whimpered as his mouth returned to her breasts again before brushing lower. Jaime kissed another scratch on her left thigh, kissed her thatch of blond curls just because, though he lingered. As she gasped that she certainly wasn’t hurt _there,_ he shoved a finger in her and hit _that_ spot. A few strokes and she was falling apart, driven to pieces by his tongue and fingers. She saw gold and white light flashing before her eyes. 

As the haze cleared, she felt him licking her belly button and more tender, airy kisses on her breasts, her throat. Lazy kisses and light swipes of his tongue traced the scratches on her right arm. Her heart began to race again.

“I am sorry,” she said as he kissed every finger of her left hand, lingering on the one with her wedding and engagement rings. “And you’re right. It was stupid. I was an idiot.”

Jaime kissed her on the nose. “Sorry for that but you scared me.”

She kissed him back then sat up. Jaime, lying on his side, complained, “Get back here. I’m kissing you.”

“You can make up calling me stupid and an idiot by treating my scratches,” Brienne said, showing him her arms. 

“And what do I get in return?”

She blushed and leaned to whisper in his ear. He grinned and she reddened some more. “Hells, yes.”

____  
Jaime and Brienne didn’t leave the room for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their girls are not twins but are only a year apart. Their names are Joanna Blue and Alysanne Belle.


	9. Wife (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF AND TUMBLE.

Jaime brushed his lips lazily against Brienne’s, continuing to her cheek, down the hard line of her jaw, her strong, freckled throat. She frowned as his beard rasped at her sensitive skin, squirming under him before she turned away and burrowed herself deeper in bed. His laugh was warm against her ear, followed by, “Fine. Lazybones,” before she heard him shuffling out of bed. She sighed, hugging her pillow. It was the first day of Winterfest. No school. Best of all, no waking up early to feed the children. A smile quirked the corner of her lips as she imagined telling their children they would just have to tough up and feed themselves because Mommy intended to sleep late. Daddy, on the other hand, well. Jaime wouldn't be Jaime if he didn't get up on such a _cold_ morning to shower first thing. And he wasn't off to work! Really, her husband could be so odd sometimes. But she loved him, she thought, smiling dreamily and sighing. 

She turned and curled on Jaime’s side, still warm and smelling faintly of his soap and cologne and the warm, knee-weakening scent that was only her husband’s. Burying herself under the comforter, she began to drift to sleep.

Until a suspiciously girlish shriek came from the bathroom.

Face still pressed against the pillow, she murmured, “Jaime.”

“Wife!” Jaime was shouting. “Wife! _Brienne!_ ”

Oh, fuckity-fuck. Brienne groaned as she lifted her head from the pillow. Squinting at the sun-lit room, she turned her head toward the bathroom. “What?”

“Come here!” Jaime sounded really terrified.

Her husband was the strongest man but he was afraid of the most ridiculous things. Clowns on stilts. Little girls dressed as adults in those creepy beauty pageants. Chipped leather. Or running out of one of the gazillions of hair products he used thus why he always bought double and Brienne bought double else he wouldn't stop whining. 

“Squirrel?” She called out, stretching languorously. Man, it was so warm and heavenly in bed. 

“What? No! Fuck, come here, wife!”

Okay, that was one off the list. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and swinging her legs to the floor. “Snake?” Highly unlikely. 

_“Brieeeeenne!”_ Jaime begged. “Come on!”

She draped the comforter over her body despite the thick sweater she was wearing, pajamas with the bottoms tucked in socks. As she pushed open the bathroom door, she yawned, hugely. “Spider?”

Jaime was pressed against the wall, glaring at the critter which Brienne deduced was on the sink. Still yawning, she went there. Yep. Big, black and completely harmless-looking languishing at the bottom. She glanced at Jaime, who shot her a sheepish look.

“I’m sorry, but could you. . .please?”

Blond hair askew, emerald eyes still sleepy, his beautiful jaw outlined even more by his beard. He was still in his sweater and pajamas, disgruntled, annoyed and scared. Brienne had to bite back a smile. Jaime wouldn’t appreciate being called adorable right now. She handed him the comforter and indulged in a quick, reassuring kiss.

“Stay back, husband.” 

Brienne unrolled some toilet paper and used it to get the spider from the sink. As Jaime’s breath hitched, she caught the spider and flushed it down the toilet. She was washing her hands when he placed the blanket next to the sink and wrapped his arms around her waist. He pressed a kiss on her shoulder.

She looked at them in the mirror. She looked smug, which didn’t exactly boost what little looks she had. Smug, but soft and sleepy. He looked relieved and the play in his eyes was back. Full-on god, she thought, blushing as he brushed his lips from her left temple down to her neck. Their hair matched in terms of mess ndclothes competed for which had more wrinkles. There was no mistaking his erection nudging against the cleft of her buttocks.

“My knight,” he whispered, eyes green fire as he continued staring at her through the mirror. A lock of golden blond hair fell over his forehead. “My hero. _My wife._ ”

She turned around, the heat in her cheeks spreading down her neck, then her chest. He grinned and captured her mouth again, devouring her thick, chapped lips as if they were the sweetest candy. 

“Join me in the shower, wife?” He asked as they kissed.

She pushed her hands under his sweater, encountered t-shirt before his taut skin. “It’s cold,” her voice hung between a whisper and a moan.

“I’ll get you hot quick.” He groaned against her tongue.

She shook her head, blue eyes twinkling. “It’s cold,” she repeated.

He cupped her face and pressed fervent kisses around it, lingering on her closed eyelids before taking her mouth again. As she clung to him, he begged, “Bed?”

She kissed him back, throwing her arms around him, slipping her hands under the collar at his nape because he felt so warm and _wonderful._ “Bed.”

Despite her protests, he hitched her legs around his waist and she grabbed the heavy blanket. He ran back to bed, their laughter trailing after them. Bed, Brienne thought happily as he tossed her there quite rudely. Never mind. Bed and Jaime, that’s what mattered. She crept under the comforter and lifted it for Jaime to follow her. They smiled at each other and kissed again, hungry for the warmth brought by their growing passion. A warm bed, an even warmer Jaime—by the gods, she was truly on vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be away for the weekend but the wifi to where I'm going is wonky so. . .we'll see. I apologize for the short chapter but I loved writing it. I hope you enjoy it too.
> 
> ____  
> To my WCA fans, hang in there! I'll update next week. It got dark again, sorry. :-(


	10. Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne sort of rescue each other.

Jaime ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. Green eyes bloodshot from being deprived of the sleep he needed, he sighed and looked at Brienne. She sat at the foot of the bed, legs kept closed, arms hugging herself. She looked lost.

“This is an unexpected development.” 

She nodded. “To say the least.”

As he continued to stand apart with his back to her, she asked in a small voice, her heart in her throat, “Are you angry?”

He turned to her sharply.”What?”

Awkwardly, she gestured at herself. “Jaime, we both know this isn’t the time. It’s been only six months.”

“There is never the perfect time, you know that. They’re there when they have to be.” Jaime sat down beside her and put an arm around her. She leaned against him, grateful for his strength and and relieved. As she rested her head on his shoulder, he began to pull her up so she was sitting on his lap. They looked ridiculous—she the taller and broader of the two, and looked more like a man. His hold on her was firm and unyielding. 

“I’m not angry,” he said and she looked at him. He threaded his fingers between hers before pressing them together on her stomach. “The timing is—“

“Inconvenient.”

His smile was gentle. “Surprising.”

As her blue eyes softened he continued, their hands still on her stomach, “Besides, we did talk about having another so Joanna has a baby sister or brother as a partner. Now it’s—how far along are we?”

Her heart clenched at that. `We.’ She would never be alone in this.

“Twelve weeks next week.” 

His hand firmed on her stomach. “That gives us enough time to get our sorry heads around it,” he told her, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I can never be angry about having another child with you, Brienne. Although—“ the deep flush rising suddenly in his cheeks cut him off.

“What?”

“This is largely my fault.” He said, startling her. “I knew it hardly ever worked but I’ve been pulling out. Why I couldn’t be bothered with the condoms—“

“This is _my_ fault.” She shot back, surprising him this time. Heat in her face, she stammered, “Um, I. . .I’m always. . .I always want you. . .to hurry.” The last couple of times they fucked, she had taken the lead and left Jaime bruised and laughing breathlessly. Sunk in the delirium of want for her husband, that’s what, she had thought. It didn’t occur to her it was due to a baby. Her headaches and sensitivity to certain smells and food she attributed to the stress of her new position as department chair.

“Putting on a condom takes less than a minute." He pointed out.

True. But just looking at Brienne was too much sometimes. Guileless blue eyes. Big, wide mouth. Legs. Freckles. Jaime could count in one hand the number of times he had been gentle. He tend to take her roughly, her cries pleas that he take her harder. The baby must have been made when he fucked her in the garage one morning. She came to him with a glass of iced tea, smelling of vanilla and looking unusually appealing in his old baggy sweatshirt and ripped jeans. Throat dry, he glanced at the ice-cold drink she held then her plump mouth, the freckles splashed around her throat. His thirst rapidly changed into another kind as she bit her lip. 

So he attacked her.

“I, um, I couldn’t wait even for less than a minute.”

As she lowered her head, blushing even more, a slow smile spread across his face. He pressed his nose against her neck, loving the soft scent of sweat and lingering vanilla soap there. She breathed his name, closing her eyes as he nuzzled her. Tender green eyes looked into sweet blues before their mouths met in a deep, hungry kiss. He held her fast as she shyly grazed her teeth across his slick bottom lip.

“You should never have to wait for more than a minute for my cock, wife.” He chuckled as the blush on her cheeks got more vivid. Kissing her loudly on the cheek, he put them to bed. Brienne settled on her back as Jaime curled against her, throwing his long leg between hers while he rucked up her shirt until her stomach was bare. She grinned as he dropped a kiss there before stretching out beside her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her closer. A deep, satisfied rumbled rose from his chest as she held his hand.

“I’m glad you want the baby, Jaime. Because I really do.”

“As soon as it’s born we’ll work on baby number seven,” he joked and got punched in the arm quite painfully as a result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the previous chapter,we find out that our favorite dorks have daughters. I've always planned their girls to be close in age but not twins.
> 
> Brienne gets pregnant again a few months after giving birth to Joanna (super-sperm and friendly eggs). She'll be off the pills, she and Jaime are so busy she can't squeeze in time to be fitted for an IUD that's why they use condoms. By this time, Brienne is the new chair of the department, hence why she's shoulder-deep in work and children and Jaime. This also explains why they didn't realize right away she's knocked up again.
> 
> And of course, they still go at it like deranged rabbits on death row. :-)


	11. Daughter (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne meets with Tywin.  
> ___  
> Happens some time after Then Came You.

The host led her to what was undoubtedly the best table in Castamere, a restaurant that required at least three months’ notice for a reservation. For ordinary folk, this was the case. Tywin Lannister, however, could call anytime.  
This did little in easing Brienne’s nerves.

Jaime had introduced her to his family a month ago, and brought her to have dinner with them every Friday since. Dinners at Casterly Rock were formal affairs where she was expected to dress like a proper lady and look like one, though no amount of keeping her hair flat and tidy, let alone her harsh features, could make her so. There was nothing like this back home in Evenfall Hall, but then her uncles were never one for formalities and scoffed at her father whenever he tried to ban, for example, shorts at the dinner table. But Brienne had good manners. This and Jaime’s reassuring presence helped a lot.  
Today, she only had good manners.

Brienne had a two-hour break before her next class so she was able to return to her apartment and replace her jeans and ratty sneakers with something more proper. She didn’t have a lot of dresses and the few she had were more appropriate for evening. In the end, she put on the dark navy blouse and black slacks she wore the night she got drunk at Ye Olde Gods and performed `The Bear and The Maiden Fair’ on the table—the night she and Jaime first laid eyes on each other. Even the shoes she wore, black flats with a decorative silver buckle, were from that night. Her cheeks flared scarlet at the memory of Jaime returning the missing half to her, trailing kisses around her ankle and up and down her legs as if he couldn’t bear for his lips to be parted from her skin. 

When she was seated before Tywin, her cheeks were a bright pink and sweat beaded her upper lip. He gave her a small smile as a server poured water into her goblet.

“You look well, dear,” he said, speaking in that deep, even voice that cut like a well-sharpened knife. “Thank you for agreeing to my request.”

 _Request, my ass._ Tywin had his secretary call her that he wanted to see her. It was more of a summons than a request. Brienne just nodded, though. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve gone ahead and ordered for us,” he told her, his green eyes bright and cool. “I know I’m keeping you from class.”

“It won’t be for another couple of hours,” she reassured him. Taking a sip of water to moisten her dry lips, she asked, “Um, you asked to see me?”

“You get right to the point,” he remarked, nodding as if she’d fulfilled some secret criteria. “I knew I was right to ask for your assistance.”

Brienne frowned. At Tywin’s request (order), she had not mentioned to Jaime or anyone about their meeting. She’d had a bad feeling about it from the start. Tywin Lannister didn’t approve of her. He would tell her to break up with Jaime. That Jaime deserved somebody better, richer, pretty, a woman who looked like one. He would pay her off to make the heartbreak she would inflict on his son worthwhile. _A Lannister always pays his debts._

She straightened her posture and looked at him right in the eye. “I too appreciate directness.”

As her words hung between them, a small army of servers came with their food. Seared halibut on a bed of grapefruit salad and Riverrun mushrooms. A wine was presented to Tywin, who gave a small nod of his head that it be poured into their goblets. Brienne watched as her other goblet was filled with wine the colour of gold. Tywin waved them away soon after.

“You’re good for my son.” 

Tywin then proceeded to cut himself a piece off the fish. Seeing Brienne frozen, he cleared his throat, “Has Jaime brought you here before? If not, I can assure you that this is their best dish. I order it whenever I’m here. Go on.”

No. Jaime had not. There was no question that Jaime could afford to take her here but they were more of the casual elegance of Wyman Manderly, bustling diners that served breakfast all day along with the juiciest burgers, hokey places along the beach with tacky, pirate-themed décor but serving the fattest shrimps, the sweetest crabs and the freshest lobsters. But it was Tywin’s words about her being good for his son that she was having difficulty digesting.

“And?” 

Her inquiry sounded sharper than intended because Tywin looked at her with surprise.

“That’s it. You’re good for my son.” 

“You didn’t ask me to come all the way downtown just to tell me this.”

“You’re right.” Tywin dabbed his lips with a cloth napkin that was crisper and probably cost more than her shirt. “I want to know what your intentions are.”

“Excuse me—my intentions?”

“My son loves you, Brienne. Are you going to break his heart?”

“What? _No!”_ Brienne exclaimed loudly. As heads turned toward them, she lowered her head. Unperturbed, Tywin watched as two bright crimson spots formed on her cheeks. “I will never hurt Jaime. Never intentionally.”

“Good.” 

Tywin resumed eating. Seeing her food still untouched, he frowned at her. “Pray tell, child, what is wrong with the food? I know you prefer fish over red meat. I’ve seen it myself. Do you want to eat something else? Their rib-eye is highly commendable. Marinated in Dornish gold and spices.”

She didn’t know what to make of his addressing her as ‘child,’ ignoring the warmth in his tone that was surely from wishful thinking. 

“What is your intention?” She asked. “Mr. Lannister—“

“Tywin.”

“—you told me to tell no one of this meeting. That tells me something’s going to happen that you don’t want Jaime to know. I must tell you I’m already uncomfortable with this—I had to lie to your son because he wanted us to have lunch today. I hate lying. Most of all I hate lying to the person I love. You’re going to have do a whole lot better than saying I’m good to him and demanding what my intentions are.”

“I said you’re good _for_ him.” Tywin corrected her. He looked at her and nodded to himself again, as if she had passed a secret test didn’t know she was taking part in.“And as a father, I have the right to know what your intentions are. He’s brought you home every Friday dinner—“

“That wasn’t my idea.”

“No, it’s not. I can see that. He’s clearly smitten with you. I want to make sure you’re not taking advantage. He’s handsome and rich.”

“I never cared about those.”

“I can see that too.” His emerald eyes twinkled.

“But why the secrecy?”

Tywin sighed. “Because Jaime doesn’t want me meddling. He told me himself. But I couldn’t resist. I was never a good father to my children, Brienne, but I damn well care about their happiness. He’s found it in you. I want to make sure he doesn’t lose you.”

“I’ll be with Jaime for as long as he wants and needs me.” Brienne couldn’t stop the rawness in her voice. A sharp pain sliced through her chest at the thought of the end between them. 

“My dear,” Tywin told her with a smile, “believe me, you’re going to be around for a long, long time.”

He turned his attention back to his food. “But I’ll hold you to your word, Brienne. Do not break Jaime’s heart. I don’t think,” he cleared his throat and took a sip of water, “I don’t think he’s going to survive if you do.”

Brienne shook her head. “I swear to you. I love Jaime.”

“That’s all I needed to hear. Now eat.” He told her sharply. “Your food is getting cold and you’re putting it to waste. People say I shit gold but that doesn’t mean I throw my money around. Jaime wouldn’t forgive me for making you lie to him and leaving you starved.”

His smile was surprisingly warm and fond. _This can’t be happening._ Blushing again, Brienne nodded and started to eat.


	12. Sister/ Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei needs someone to help her prove that she's not a prude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive the ridiculousness of the story. For some reason, I can't shake it off and it refused to let go. Really wouldn't let go. Chapter has lots of OOCness.

“Oh come on,” Tyrion said, rolling his mismatched eyes as he pointed at Cersei. “You’re putting us on and you know it, wouldn’t you agree, Robert?”

Robert, who sat next to his wife on the couch, gave her a doubtful look. Seeing this, Cersei’s emerald eyes widened and she exclaimed, “I don’t believe you, Robert Baratheon! You don’t think I have?”

“Cersei, everyone in the room knows you’re the biggest prude there is. Not—“ he was quick to add as her beautiful face turned stormy—“that it’s a bad thing. You’re _conservative._ What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong is you’ve all pigeonholed me based on a wrong impression. So what if I like to keep things neat and orderly, if there are certain things I don’t particularly fantasize about doing—how does that make me a prude right away? Somebody back me up here. Brienne.” Cersei turned her eyes on her goodsister, who was sitting on the floor between Jaime’s legs, who was on the couch and massaging her shoulders and neck. “I’m sure there are things you don’t want to do, you know, like, sexual things.”

“I’ll answer that,” Jaime said smugly. His grin was positively devilish. “All the things that you think Brienne haven’t done or wouldn’t do, she’s done. More than once. And half the time it was her idea.”

It was almost laughable as a blush the colour of watermelon spread quickly on Brienne’s face. “ _Jaime!_ What the actual fuck!”

"It's the truth, wife."

“That,” Margaery said approvingly as she helped herself to a cookie, “I’d pay good money to see.”

Jaime, still grinning, played with Brienne’s hair. “How about that, wife—“

“No!”

“Okay. Why is it that you all believe right away that Brienne is sexually adventurous in the bedroom while you can’t fathom the idea that I’ve made out with a girl?” Cersei growled in frustration. 

“If this is what we’re going to talk about, I need to get out of here,” Brienne said, beginning to stand up. Jaime shook his head and placed his hands on her shoulders, keeping her down. “You want me to break your nose, husband?”

“Believe me, there’s no reason for you to leave because that’s not what we’re going to talk about.” Jaime told her firmly, giving everyone in the room a warning look. 

They were in Tyrion and Margaery’s new home. The couple had moved in months ago but had only arranged and designed their home to their satisfaction just recently and now wanted to show off their efforts to their first guests. They hosted a delicious dinner and had now adjourned to the living room for dessert, coffee and wine. Their two-year-old, Olenna Alerie, or Lenna, for short, was fast asleep in her room with a nanny keeping watch, thus allowing her parents to focus on entertaining their guests.

Brienne had been excited for weeks. Since the birth of her younger boys and the increasing of their work, she and Jaime hardly had the time to go out and relax. Her frustration with the baby weight she couldn’t shake off right away had driven a wedge between them for some time but they’ve dealt with it and were no closer and more passionate than ever. Brienne buried her deepening bush in her knees at the memory of Jaime having so far fulfilling his promise to fuck her at least twice a day to make up for those months. Her jaw was still a little stiff and there was an ache between her legs that didn’t give her discomfort but reminded her of what should be in there, right now. Pounding hard.

“Okay, okay.” Margaery said, rising from the love seat she shared with Tyrion to refill her wine glass. “If you’ve really kissed a girl, Cers, then you’re going to have to describe it to us.”

“What?” Cersei protested. “That’s very personal!”

“Not as personal as my confirming that yes, my wife is very adventurous behind closed doors,” Jaime couldn’t resist piping up just so Brienne would give him a murderous glare. He grabbed her hand and kissed it. 

“Sister, you want us to believe you’re capable of something so naughty, you’re going to give us the dirty details,” Tyrion said, smirking. As Margaery returned to sit beside him, they exchanged an intimate look and she lowered her head to whisper in his ear. Tyrion chuckled and whispered something back to her. 

Rubbing Cersei's back, Robert said, “My heart, if you don’t want to, then don’t. Why do you care what they think?”

She shot back, “You think I’m a prude. Does that mean I bore you?”

Tyrion made an ominous sound as Robert protested, ““Most definitely not!” 

“But you want me to be more open to other things, right?”

Robert, who had not touched a single drop of alcohol, flushed. “Is this really the place to discuss it?”

“Much as dirty talk turns me on,” drawled Margaery as Tyrion put a hand on her thigh, “I’d much rather hear about the girl Cersei _supposedly_ made out with.”

“I’m going to need more wine,” Jaime groaned. To Brienne, he said, “Wife, you’re driving us home.”

“Why don’t I knock you right now so that when it’s time to go home, you’ll be awake and a little smarter, hmm?” She said drily. 

“Is anyone interested to hear about it or not?” Cersei whined.

“Let me have a refill,” Tyrion said. “And then you may begin.”

Cersei glared at him. “I am not going to give the full details. But I will tell you that neither of us were drunk, that we thought to just try it and it turned out much, much better,” she said.

Margaery looked disappointed. “What? That tells us nothing. That’s pretty generic. I can not stress enough the importance of alcohol contributing to extremely sexy encounters.”

“Names,” Tyrion agreed. “Names and more concrete details.”

“Well, Mr. Lannister, maybe not that much details,” Margaery told him, laughing. “This is your sister, after all.”

“I’m bored,” Jaime announced.

Brienne yawned. “Me too.”

Robert told Cersei, “My heart, you don’t have to do this.”

But Cersei’s eyes brightened competitively. “Oh, yes, I do. Fine. You want details? I’m giving you details.”

“I’m going to be sick!” Jaime groaned and Brienne laughed, a horsey, fond sound. 

“Now that I think about this—“ Tyrion began, standing up. Margaery snatched him back down. “Tyrion Lannister, don’t you dare leave!”

Smiling prettily at Cersei, she said, “I want to hear about it. And so will everyone in this room. My house. My rules.” She added firmly, looking at everyone else in the eye. Brienne blushed and made herself comfortable between Jaime’s legs. 

“I’ll give a name. You can call her. I’m not guaranteeing she would confirm it because, you know, of her connections now. But it happened. And if there are any doubts,” Cersei smirked, “I’ll be more than happy to prove it. Provided there’s a volunteer.”

“A volunteer? What do you mean. . .oh.” And Brienne blushed harder upon understanding. 

Margaery clapped her hands, her brown ringlets bouncing with her body, “Okay! Yay!”

“Okay.” Cersei stood up and inhaled dramatically. “This may come as a shock. But in college, I made out with. . .here goes—Yara Greyjoy.”

As shocked silence filled the room, Tyrion let out a guffaw. “ _Yara Greyjoy._ Oh, sister, you don’t really mean that you made out with the governor of King’s Landing!”

Cersei crossed her arms and looked at him. “Fine. Don’t believe me. You demanded a name. I gave it.”

Brienne turned to look up at Jaime and ask, “Can we go home now?”

“Let’s,” he said, giving her a hand. As they stood up, Cersei asked, “You don’t believe me?”

“Uh, Cersei, it’s not that we don’t—“ Brienne stammered.

“What my wife is saying poorly is we don’t really care. Now, it’s late. It’s cold out. I want to take my wife home—“ Jaime was saying but stopped when Cersei looked at her feet. “Cers, you can’t honestly believe that our opinion matters? It was just a thing—“

“A thing that none of you believe I did! Why is it so hard to believe I can do something crazy?” Cersei demanded.

“Right now I’m believing it,” Tyrion drawled and she shot him a withering look.

Robert put an arm around her. “I believe you. And if you want to prove it even more—“

“My heart, I have to prove that I have and can kiss a woman,” Cersei told him. “Thank you for being so sweet but you’re just going to give biased results.” She leaned against him.

Tyrion looked at Margaery who protested, “What? I can’t do that. I’m a mother.”

“We’re all mothers here, Marge,” Brienne pointed out.

“Over my dead body my wife will kiss my sister,” Tyrion declared. Margaery told him, "Mr. Lannister, there's no need to get dramatic." 

Everyone looked expectantly at Jaime and Brienne. As Brienne gasped and turned away, Jaime put himself in front of her and glared at them. “No way.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like I’m going to seduce her or fall in love with her,” Cersei argued.

“It’s just a kiss,” Robert said.

“Seven fucking hells it’s just a kiss. This is you talking about _my wife_ making out with my sister.” Jaime snarled.

“Well, I am not going to kiss you nor you,” Cersei said, jerking a finger at him and at Tyrion. “That’s gross!”

As the Lannister brothers started arguing with their sister that she’s the only woman to think that, Brienne threw up her hands, glared at the ceiling and stalked toward the trio. Cersei was in the middle of complaining how no one saw her as anything beyond a mother and a doctor when Brienne shouldered her way between Robert and Jaime, fire in her sapphire eyes and grabbed Cersei by the collar of her blouse to plant a big, deep kiss right on the lips.

Margaery was grateful to be sitting down. The men in the room watched in shock and fascination as Brienne and Cersei kissed. Cersei's hands drifted to Brienne's waist.

“Well—“ Robert started to say, grinning wickedly. 

Jaime howled, _“Cersei, hands off my wife!”_

Tyrion and Robert groaned as the two women broke apart. Cersei, shocked, managed a shaky smile at Brienne, who was flushed and looked as if she’d just been bamboozled. As she whirled around, Jaime caught her in his arms. “What the hell did you do that for?”

“You were all so silly,” she mumbled, looking at him in apology. “I’m sorry.”

“Wow,” Cersei breathed. “Fuck, Brienne, you kiss like that? And only Jaime gets to—“ She held up her hand. “High five, bro!”

Jaime and Brienne had turned toward her at her words, both equally stunned but her brother looked like he wanted to kill her. Nothing compared to the looks on everyone’s faces when Margaery suddenly swooped in and grabbed Brienne’s head toward her for a kiss. She rubbed her small, slender lips against the blond’s full, pillowy mouth before setting her away. Tyrion laughed and applauded. Margaery’s brown eyes twinkled as she smiled at Brienne. 

“Well, I guess it’s no big surprise that you are adventurous in the bedroom,” she told Brienne. She winked. “Too bad only Jaime knows.” She went back to Tyrion, who told her, “I am _so_ glad you agreed to marry me, Miss Tyrell.”

As Brienne’s face flared dark pink, Jaime hauled her back protectively in his arms. “That is the last time that anyone besides me will be kissing my wife. _The last time._ Anyone who has a problem with that will get important body parts cut off!”

“Good night! Thank you!” Brienne managed to call over her shoulder as Jaime dragged her with him. Stumbling behind her husband, she whispered, “I’m so, so, sorry—“

He turned so swiftly he almost hit her if not for her quick reflexes. His breath coming out in harsh plumes, he bit out, “Kissing my sister is something I wish I can unsee but kissing Margaery—fuck, Brienne, that was seriously _hot_.”

Confused, she stuttered, “Wait, what—“

Jaime wrapped his arms around her waist, smiling as she felt the familiar jut of his erection against her thigh. She shook her head and couldn’t help the giggles that began to seize her body. He kissed her on the cheek and whispered, “Let’s go home so I can give you the best kiss of your life.”

She cocked a pale eyebrow. “Really? The best kiss of my life?” She teased. 

“Absolutely. You’d never want anyone else to kiss you. And you know I’m a man of my word.” He said, leaning close to slide his tongue across her swollen lips. "If we can get home before midnight, that means I've fucked you four times today."


	13. Best Friend (Part Four)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renly's father dies and Brienne comforts him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter happens sometime after Then Came You but before Jaime and Brienne get engaged in Slowly, Towards You, At Last.

Brienne had not known of grief until she saw Renly for the first time since he left the graduate program of King’s Landing University-Westeros. The man who had said goodbye to her had been happy despite the responsibility hoisted on his shoulders. She hardly recognized the one who was waiting for her at the arrivals area. With dark, sensual looks and navy blue eyes, Renly Baratheon’s good looks could rival Jaime’s. She saw none of that the closer she approached, but a broken man.

The two best friends hugged deeply. The sudden death of Renly’s father had rocked their lives and everyone scrambling rearranging their schedules before taking off for Dragonstone. Robert, Renly’s brother, was stuck in a company takeover that he couldn’t just leave right away. Stannis had gone off to parts unknown for a photography assignment and was still being located. This left Brienne as the only one available at the moment. Jaime wanted to go with her but an important meeting needed him. He saw her off at the airport, promising he would join her in a couple of days. 

The first thing Brienne did upon arriving at Dragonstone, the villa surrounded by Baratheon Vineyards, was to put a weakly-protesting Renly to bed. Much as she hated it, she had him take a sleeping pill. Then she unpacked and got in touch with his assistant. Together, they started making arrangements for the funeral. Brienne was uncomfortable giving orders and delegating tasks and she knew she was overstepping but it had to be done. Renly in his current state was simply not fit to do anything. The dead may be gone but there were many things still left to do to ensure a smooth process.

On her second day, Robert and Cersei arrived. Robert immediately went to see Renly, who was in their father’s study where he had insisted on taking on the rest of the funeral arrangements. Brienne let him, if he felt it would help his grief. She and Cersei left the brothers alone. That same afternoon, Jaime arrived with Stannis, who was still dusty and haggard from his latest shoot in the Red Waste. Jon arrived later that night. Still pulling his trolley behind him, he sought Renly in the study to give his friend a hug. 

Having more company helped and soon the funeral was ready to go. Brienne had been unable to sleep, still worried about Renly, who had insisted that his brothers get tailored new suits and went over the arrangements several times, leaving no stone unturned. She and Jaime tried to fuck—her restlessness made it impossible for him to sleep too. She was licking a trail down his chest when she suddenly stopped and began to cry. He held her for the rest of the night, kissing her and murmuring comforting nonsense that nevertheless stopped the tears and the sobs spilling out of her mouth. She woke up early, still in his arms. Suddenly tired, emotionally and physically, she could think of nothing else but forgetting it—she needed air, she could feel herself choking. 

Jaime had her breathe into a paper bag until she calmed down. It was ridiculous—she did not suffer a loss, after all. He kissed her on the neck and said that her good heart made her empathize for what the Baratheons were going through now. In his arms, Brienne felt that nothing could touch her, she wasn’t going to break. She stayed there until it was time. A kiss from Jaime, thorough and gentle, soothed her and but she still wished to remain in the protective circle of his embrace, drowning in his emerald eyes. 

The coffin was brought into the sept. The septon called out the names of the Baratheon brothers. Robert, the eldest, walked ahead first, Cersei on his arm. He was tall and formidable but today the despair on his face made it appear as if Cersei was the one gently propelling him toward the seats in front. Her eyes were red too and Robert, seeing that his distress was affecting her, kissed her gently on the forehead and hugged her. 

Stannis walked behind them alone, grimmer-faced yet resolute. He stared straight ahead.

Robert and Stannis were able to control their true emotions from showing on their faces but not Renly. He looked positively destroyed, red-faced and tears streaming down his cheeks as he trudged after his brothers. Brienne looked at Jaime, who nodded in understanding. She kissed him on the cheek and quickly went to her friend, the arm she reached for him with immediately grasped by his hands and tucked to his side. Renly all but collapsed against her, giving in to the sobs that wrenched every heart in the sept witnessing his grief. She put her arm around him, hugging him and wishing for something she could do to lessen his pain. 

But there was nothing. There was nothing to do but hold Renly by the hand, hold him in her arms and let him cry.


	14. Husband and Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Jaime and Brienne give and take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before False, Positive. Also calls back to Slowly, Towards You, At Last, where Brienne helps Jaime relax.

As Jaime’s eyes began to flutter open, Brienne, her cheeks bright pink, cooed playfully, “Wake up, husband.”

“Ugh, nooo.” Jaime groaned, burying his face against her stomach. “Fuck, don’t tell me it’s Monday already. No, no, no. I’d much rather stay here.” She laughed as he nudged her shirt until her tummy was bare. As he nuzzled her navel, she patted him on the back and shifted away until she was standing next to the bed. Jaime looked at her, sleepy and disgruntled, and looking cute and devilishly handsome at the same time. As she smiled at him, he groaned again and pushed his face under a pillow. 

“Up, Jaime! I made you breakfast—“

“I _can’t._ I’m just gonna hurl—“

“A light breakfast—“

“I don’t know.” He removed the pillow and blinked up at her. A slow, cocky smile stretched his lips. “Come back here. I want to fuck.”

“You always want to fuck,” she told him, suddenly warm all over at his suggestion. A husky note laced the last word of her sentence.“We fucked twice last night. We also fucked all day last Saturday. Don’t tell me you’re still tensed?”

Jaime yanked blanket away and showed her his erection. “That look relaxed to you, wife?” He snapped.

“ _Oh._ Um,” Brienne looked at all other spots in the room except for what hung between her husband’s legs. Or rather pointing straight up. She was blushing right to very tips of her pale blond hair.“I’ve showered. And my hair fixed and everything— _hey!_ ” She yelped as Jaime suddenly grabbed her and flung her across the mattress. He knelt over her, emerald eyes dark with desire as he unzipped her slacks. A rich, scarlet colour exploded all the way from her cheekbones down to her toes as he yanked down her underwear and nuzzled her dirty-blond curls. Despite this, a loud sound between a horsey snort and a laugh exploded out of her as Jaime took a deep whiff of her abdomen. 

“All the more I should fuck you. Fuck, you smell _so good._ ” He growled, removing her pants and underwear completely. 

“Jaime! I’m going to ruin my hair and my shirt— _oh gods!_ ” Brienne’s protest turned into a sexy moan as he sucked her clit. 

He scooped his hands under her hips and brought her closer to his warm mouth. “Jaime,” she gasped, thrusting against him. “Jaime, Jaime, oh! _Yes. . .!_ ”

A short while later, a very smug Jaime Lannister tucked his pristine white shirt in his pants, all the while looking at his wife. Still flat on her back, flushed and looking at him softly, Brienne was waiting for the feeling to return to her legs. Her hair was ruined, her shirt, wrinkled and open. Jaime’s gaze was hungry and possessive as he took in her heavy-lidded eyes, swollen mouth curved to a beautiful, gentle smile, the faint purple marks of his kisses down and around her throat, her red nipples still tight and wet with his saliva. His gaze lingered longest on her pale, flushed thighs.

“You’re the one who’s supposed to relax,” she groaned, turning on her side and bending one long leg over the other. “Not me.”

“I will be as soon as you get dressed,” he teased, giving her a hand. She sat up, mussed, a mulish curl to her mouth but her eyes sparkling. He touched her hair. “I can fix your hair, wife.”

“Products tend to backfire on me,” she reminded him, drawing her shirt closed. He grinned, enjoying her modesty.

“Not this time. Come on.” He promised.

Jaime finished dressing, smiling when he saw that Brienne had selected three neckties for him to choose from. She always did this whenever he had a big presentation—lay out his suit the night before, prepare a selection of two shirts and three neckties to choose from. When he was tensed, his mind got all muddled and distracted so her choosing clothes from him eliminated this worry for the day. She wanted him focused and relaxed. Well, that was done. _Very well._

While he finished dressing, Brienne got rid of her wrinkled white shirt and selected a pale blue button-down that emphasized her fair hair, bright eyes, and freckles. She put her pants and underwear back on and slipped on her black-and-white loafers. Jaime was texting when she got out of their closet and reminded him about breakfast. For all of Jaime’s complaints about throwing up due to anxiety before the presentation, she knew he’d be in worse shape if he skipped the meal. Jaime missing meals made him cranky and more impatient.

“We still have time. Come on. Let’s fix your hair.” He insisted.

Brienne had kept her hair short since college because it was easier to wear it that way. She blushed and smiled as Jaime peered at it critically, as if it was a science experiment. He examined the vast collection of hair products he had before picking one and squeezing a small dollop onto his palm. With quick, efficient motions, he rubbed it on her hair. It was dry but he still used a blower on it to coax some body. Then he styled her hair again with his hands he stepped back, his smiled pleased in the mirror.

Brienne frowned. Her hair was tousled in a way that it seemed natural and right. Still, she said, “How is this any different from how it looked a while ago?”

“It was just messy earlier.” He fluffed a section of her hair until he nodded his head.

“Not thanks to you, husband.”

He chuckled. “Now it looks like a cute, sexy mess. Honestly, I’m torn between keeping you locked here or letting you leave the room for people to see because you look so fucking sexy.” He cupped her shoulders from behind, caught her eyes in the mirror and added huskily, “You look like your husband just fucked your brains out.”

 _“Jaime!_ I can’t go to class looking like this!”

“Disagree. I bet your students won’t be able to look away from you and know for sure that Professor Lannister is getting a lot of cock.” He said, enjoying the flare of pink across her face and down her neck. “They’re going to listen and, I know I’m right about this, wife, there’s going to be dogs panting after you wanting to carry your stuff or suddenly scheduling a consultation. When the evaluations roll in, they’re going to cite this as the day Professor Lannister changed their lives.” 

“Okay, you’re too relaxed,” Brienne declared, standing up, ducking her head because she was red all over. “Come on, let’s get you fed and ready for your presentation.”

As promised, she had made him a light breakfast—protein shake and toast. Jaime demanded coffee and she cocked a pale eyebrow at him. “Right. Because caffeine does wonders for the nerves. Take the fucking protein drink, husband.” 

Jaime grinned to himself and did as she told. He loved it when she got bossy and sharp. Brienne poured herself a cup of coffee and had a bowl of muesli with fresh bananas thrown in. 

“So. When do you think Tywin is going to return our children?” Jaime asked, taking a bite of the toast. Tywin had Drew and Ty picked up from the apartment Saturday morning. “Much as I like having the place to ourselves,” he said, smirking as Brienne flushed at what he was insinuating, “I do miss our cubs.”

“I’m picking them up this afternoon.” 

“It’s a few hours’ drive, wife. You know my father has a fleet of cars and servants who could drop them off.” Ever since the twins finished teething, Tywin had made it a point to have them over at Casterly Rock every other weekend. In order for the other grandfather, Selwyn, to not feel that they were favoring the other, Jaime and Brienne were flying to Tarth come summer and stay there for a month. Brienne didn’t have any teaching load while Jaime had still-unused vacation leaves that he would be using then.

“I know, but I cleared my afternoon classes for their paper due next week. It’s fine. I miss them so much that I can’t wait.”

Jaime looked at her bowl of muesli. He wasn’t a big fan of it but she pushed itand her spoon toward him. He had had a few mouthfuls before giving them back. “You think The Flayed Man Company would accept the pitch?”

The various advertising awards LSM Creatives got for their Valyrian beer campaign had the company leapfrogging to a dramatic growth. Its client roster now included DTD, which stood for Daenerys Targaryen Designs, Black Raven Communications and Greyjoy Navigations. Each billed at several million dragons. 

LSM Creatives was now the agency of choice but Jaime still got tensed whenever making a pitch before a potential client. Brienne had misgivings about him taking on a weapons company but he pointed out that The Flayed Man Company dealt with luxury knives design—knives more for display and collecting than for killing. She pointed out that no matter how pretty a dagger was, it was still a weapon and the only way to promote the brand was to be honest for what it was. It was gruesome that the company had a flayed man for its logo but she used this to support her idea that the client might want some “honest advertising” rather than “pretty promotion.” Thus, Jaime came up with the tag line, “Our blades are sharp.”

“If they don’t, they’re idiots. There’s no agency out there that has something as good,” she told him confidently, finishing the muesli.

Jaime cupped her cheek. “You should work with me. Be my professional sounding board. Cheerleader. And when I need to relax you’re just in the office next door.”

“Husband, if I’m anywhere near you the entire day, you’re not going to get anything done.” She blushed as he laughed in agreement. “Bronn and Addam would fire me for distracting you. But if you want to thank me, I’d love it if you take me to see the Westeros Philharmonic next week.”

“Done,” he said firmly, taking her hand and kissing it.

Jaime offered to do the dishes but she slapped his hands away and told him to get ready. She was driving him to work.

Touched by her gesture, he couldn’t resist kissing her. “Fuck, Brienne. What the hell did I do to deserve someone like you?” He asked in genuine wonder. “You’re just too good for me.”

“Husband, you can’t all be mushy and humble and sweet before The Flayed Man Company. Where’s the asshole I love, hmm?” She teased him, smiling. He kissed her again. 

“I wonder how many husbands have wives actually ordering them to be assholes and loving them for it?”

“Just one.”

“Indeed.There’s no one like me.” 

Brienne kissed him. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Wife, I’m a lion.”

“Then they’d better hear you roar.” She cupped his cheek. “You’re the best man for the job. And if they don’t think so they’re shitty idiots.”

Jaime smiled and hugged her tight.


	15. Mommy (Part Three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some pep talk by Brienne.

Tired and sated from last night’s fucking, Brienne sighed contentedly as she lay with her face pressed onto the pillow and huddled under a heavy blanket. That was the first layer. The second was Jaime lying half on top of her, an arm and a leg thrown over her. She didn’t mind. He felt wonderful.

They were sleeping so soundly the soft taps on the door and a softer voice calling, “Mommy, Mommy,” didn’t reach their ears immediately. Jaime, the first to be roused, raised his eyes, emerald eyes bleary and the other side of his face creased with the crumpled pillowcase he was pressed on. His hand tightened around Brienne’s breast in instinctive protectiveness as he stared in confusion at the door.

“Mommy?” 

Ty, Brienne realized. She had awakened at the same time as Jaime, disoriented until she felt his hand around the plump mound of her breast and his legs suddenly listless behind her. She glanced back at Jaime, who nodded, rubbing his eyes. “You locked the door?” She asked, reluctantly slipping away from him to get into her clothes. When he nodded, she scolded mildly, “I thought we made it clear to the children no locked doors.”

He rolled his eyes as she yanked the sheets from him, hurriedly covering her nude body while he continued to lay in bed, proud and magnificent in his skin. Yawning, he retorted, “You told me to do something about it when Michael walked in on us with my cock in your mouth.” He grinned at the fiery blush that exploded from her face. “And when Jason interrupted us while fucking.”

“Yeah, but more like emphasize to them the importance of knocking first,” Brienne pointed out, throwing on her discarded sweater and his old boxers. She tossed him his clothes, waited until he was dressed before opening the door. 

Ty stood there, blond hair mussed and looking sleepy and just plain adorable. Brienne, despite every inch of her body demanding that she go back to bed and fuck her husband again, smiled at him, her sapphire eyes gentle. He looked so sweet in his navy long-sleeved t-shirt and red pajamas printed with golden lions. “Sweetheart, were you waiting long? I’m sorry. Mommy and Daddy were sleeping.”

“I know, I’m sorry too.” Ty looked up at her. “I don’t feel well, Mommy. I think I’m sick.”

As he pressed his own palm on his forehead, Jaime and Brienne exchanged a knowing look. This afternoon was his elementary school’s annual play and he had a speaking part in it. Ty didn’t like being in front of a room, any room, and having to speak but he was good at it. His teachers thought that rather than letting him retreat it would be better to get him practiced. On days like this, Ty would pretend to be sick.

“Yeah, where does it hurt?” Brienne asked, pulling him in the room and deciding to play along for a bit. Jaime, now dressed, opened his arms and Ty quickly went to his father. 

“Daddy, I’m sick,” Ty told him.

Jaime felt his forehead. “You’re warm but not hot, little man. Why do you think you’re sick?”

As Ty mentioned that his tummy hurt and his skin “didn’t feel good,” Brienne joined them in bed. Ty let go of Jaime to crawl in Brienne’s arms. Over his head, they looked at each other again.

“What do we do this time?” Jaime asked her, smiling as he ran a finger down her freckled cheek.

“Waffles maybe,” she answered, settling deeper in bed and keeping Ty in her arms. “And I can drive him to school.”

“But mommy I’m not well,” Ty protested, raising his head from her chest.

Jaime kissed him on the back of his head. “That’s why I’m making your favorite, little buddy. We’ll tell your teacher you’ll be coming to school a little late.”

That brightened up Ty some. He mumbled, “Thank you, Daddy,” as Jaime rolled off the bed. He dropped a kiss on Brienne’s forehead and left the room.

“Your tummy hurts?” Brienne asked Ty.

“It’s all shaky and tingly, I think.” 

“Oh, I know that too well. It happens to me plenty of times.”

“But I don’t see you sick, Mommy.” Ty said, frowning thoughtfully. “`Cept for that one time you got sick and red and Daddy said he had to kiss you lots of times to make you feel better.”

 _Oh, the gods fuck me,_ Brienne thought, flushing at the memory. With their children now grown and getting smarter every day, Jaime and Brienne were slow to realize that they couldn’t just fuck anywhere anymore whenever they felt like it. Jaime had hit upon the idea of fucking Brienne in the kitchen in the middle of the day and Ty had walked in on them. Fortunately, they were still mostly dressed. And with Brienne’s back to the door, it hid Jaime’s lips wrapped around her nipple and his fingers inside her. But her red face couldn’t be hidden and Jaime could only stammer that she was sick, hence her flushed skin, and he had to kiss her to make her feel better. That was the start of their children asking Jaime to kiss them whenever they got sick (which wasn’t often, thank the gods) to feel better. And they demanded a lot. Since then, Jaime and Brienne confined their fucking in the bedroom. Or the garage. Once a month Tywin took in the children so they were able to revisit the old places in the house.

“Oh, I’ve been sick plenty. There are days when my tummy is really shaky and it’s like there are butterflies all over—“

“Yes!” Ty agreed heartily, nodding.

“And I want to be just in bed with Daddy but then I remember that people need me to do it. You know that Mommy is a teacher, right? Well, teachers get in front of the room and talk all the time.”

“Do you feel sick everyday?”

“Not everyday. And not like, sick-sick. But yeah, I get scared sometimes. I worry if my students will like what I will be talking about. I worry if I know how to talk about what I’ll be talking about.” Brienne told him. 

Ty’s eyes were big and curious. “How do you do it, Mommy? You do it everyday.”

“See, I like teaching. It’s the having to get in front of people that gets hard sometimes but I just remember that I like what I do. And if I make a mistake, there’s always tomorrow to do better. And I make sure to laugh at my mistakes instead of feel terrible. If I let myself feel terrible, I don’t think I’ll go back out there. Not to mention that as a teacher, it’s also my responsibility.” She ruffled his hair. “For me, disappointing people is a lot worse than, say, mispronouncing a word, or missing a cue.” 

“But your tummy gets all shaky and tingly, you said. What do you do?”

The words were out of her mouth before Brienne realized them.

“I think of Jaime.”

Ty looked puzzled. “You think of Daddy?” 

“Daddy believes in Mommy a lot. He’s not with me at work but I imagine he’s in my class and smiling.” Brienne blushed. “And your daddy is the best man. I know that even if I make a mistake, it won’t be so horrible because he believes in me.” She cupped his cheek. “We believe in you, Ty. What’s even better is when you get up on stage later, we’ll actually be there. And should you make a mistake we’re still going to be there.” She kissed him on the forehead and drew him tight to her chest. “I won’t leave my cub behind.”

“Mommy?” Ty’s cheeks were pink.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I’ll think of you later when I’m up there. I’ll think of you smiling and that you won’t leave me behind.” 

Brienne grinned and wrapped him in her arms again “Never, Ty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ty' mentioning that his skin "didn't feel good" is a callback to Buffy the Vampire Slayer when she tells her Mom that her "skin hurts" and so she shouldn't go to school. She also burned the waffles but Jaime doesn't, of course.


	16. Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime forgets something.

“Alright, everyone, give Daddy a kiss for luck,” Brienne told the children as Jaime took his suit jacket from where it was draped on the back of his chair. Jaime shot her a grin before getting down on his knee to collect those precious kisses. 

Jason threw his plump arms around him and kissed him soundly on the cheek. Drew was next, smiling and whispering in his ear, “You’ll be great, Dad.” Ty just hugged him, but it was tight and long and Jaime ended up kissing him. He stepped back and, blushing, handed Jaime a card. “Good luck, Daddy,” he said, kissing him this time. Jaime was still holding the card when Michael came running and threw himself in his arms, nearly knocking his father to the floor. “Love you!” Michael exclaimed then he was pushing Jaime away.

As Taena led the children back to the kitchen to finish their breakfast, Jaime stood up and winked at Brienne. “And what about my wife? Don’t I get a kiss for luck?”

Brienne eyed his bag. “Laptop inside?”

“Check.”

“Car keys? Wallet? Driver's license? Cellphone?”

“Of course,” he said impatiently.

“Well. You pass muster, husband,” she teased him as she approached. 

Brienne looked into his eyes, feeling herself go warm and soft before she ended the distance between them with a kiss. Meant to be just a peck, it quickly became a full-blown kiss involving mouth and tongue. “Let’s celebrate tonight?” Jaime asked her, licking her her cheek, the side of her neck.

“Of course.” She moaned, cupping his face and deepening the kiss.

“Dinner and fucking.” He clarified and she blushed. He growled, _“Lots of fucking.”_

“Only if you get the account. Otherwise, it’s just dinner,” she joked, laughing as he snarled under his breath and gave her a hard, bruising kiss. Then he was moving away, flushed and handsome, the gleam in his emerald eyes leering and his grin absolutely naughty and up to no good. Brienne scowled as he stared as if he could see right through her white button-up and gray slacks. He laughed and headed for the door.

“I wish I can drive you like I used to,” she said, following him. “You’ll have to do this on your own, Lannister.”

“I’m terrified,” he joked, giving her another kiss. This time it was a gentle brush of their lips. She cupped his face gently and whispered, “I love you. Go get ‘em.”

“I will be sure to tell you of my victory tonight,” Jaime vowed dramatically, “from between your legs.”

Brienne gasped, going violently red. He laughed again and waved goodbye to her before sliding inside the car. She stood watching him until the card turned and disappeared in the corner. 

In the kitchen, Taena was telling the children to brush their teeth. Brienne refilled her coffee and helped herself to an apple. Taena carted off Drew and Ty to the bathroom. 

Brienne was taking bites of her apple in between feeding Jason and Michael when she spied a flat, black device next to the pitcher of orange juice. “Oh, fuck,” she groaned, recognizing it. Then her hand flew to her mouth as Jason and Michael looked at her curiously. “I mean, _duck._ Mommy says `duck’ when something awful’s happened.” She said, red to the tips of her ears.

Taking Jaime’s hard drive, she went to Taena and told her what just happened. Taena waved her worries away. “Go on, go after Jaime. I can bring Jason and Michael while I drop off their brothers to school.”

“Their backpacks are ready,” Brienne told her. She wagged her finger at Drew and Ty. “ I can’t bring you to school, guys. Do as Taena says and you’ll get extra dessert tonight.”

Drew punched his fist in the air. “Yeah!"

AFter kissing them goodbye, Brienne ran out to the SUV and hopped in. She placed a call to her TA as she pulled out of the driveway. "You'll have to take over for a while because I'll be late for class."

 

At his desk in LSM Creatives, Jaime was smiling as he looked at Ty’s card. He had drawn a green-eyed lion with crayons and scrawled, `Roar, Daddy!’ inside. Touched by his shy son’s gesture, he placed the card right next to the pictures frames on his desk—one a color photo of Brienne, the expression on her face gentle and her sapphire eyes soft, and another of her with their children, all of them laughing in the pool. 

“Jaime?” His assistant, a young man in his twenties unfortunately named Josmyn Peckledon peeked in his office. Due to his ridiculously old-fashioned and feminine-sounding name, he went by Peck. “The conference room is ready.”

“Good. Set this up, will you?” Jaime said, handing him his laptop bag. “My external drive’s in there.”

As Peck walked out of the office with Jaime’s things, Bronn let himself in. “You look like someone who’s already nailed Grand Citadel Bookstore,” he said, referring to the client they were meeting today. Grand Citadel Bookstore was the largest chain of bookstores in Westeros and would soon be expanding to Essos. 

Jaime rolled his eyes. “You look like someone who’s lost it.”

Bronn dropped down on a chair and made himself comfortable. “Well, my pessimism to balance your positivity.” He squinted at Jaime and grinned knowingly. “You and Brienne fucked last night, didn’t you?”

Jaime frowned. “Let’s not talk about my wife that way.”

“Nah, I mean no harm. There’s just always something different with you.” Bronn remarked. “Of course, it could be because I’m not the fucking pessimistic cunt I usually am because Lollys and I fucked last night. The world is a better place when you fuck.” He grinned. “And we fucked the whole night, thank you for asking.”

“Didn’t ask, didn’t want to know, and Lollys would cut off your ear if she heard you.”

“Nah. Just saying that there’s no better way to unwind before a big meeting than fucking the one you love. A good scotch may do but why’d you choose a glass over a cunt? Or a mouth?”

Jaime, whose focus at the meeting had been solid until Bronn started talking about sex, rubbed his temples. Nope. They didn’t banish the images of Brienne sweating and moaning under him as she came, nor of her between his thighs and licking his cock as if it was thesweetest popsicle. A familiar stirring started in his pants.He sighed and gave his colleague a wary look.

“Yeah, Bronn, this is why HR’s on your case. Language. We’re not a fucking brothel or tavern, for crying out loud.”

“It’s only you and Marbrand I talk to like this. I’m well-behaved with everyone else.”

“Why are we the exception, you idiot—“

“Uh, Jaime?” Peck knocked on the door frame and let himself in. He looked unsure. “Um, I can’t find the external drive.”

“You checked the bag?”

“It’s not there.”

Bronn shot Jaime a look. “Don’t you have a back-up?”

“That was the back-up. I swear I put it—“

_Seeing Brienne in their sun-lit kitchen, he put the device next to the pitcher of juice and went to her, pulled once again by the urge to kiss her endlessly._

Jaime groaned, remembering. “Shit. Fuck.”

“We have a shit fuck of a situation?” Bronn asked blandly.

“I left it at home.”

As Jaime thought about how he could kick himself, Brienne swept past the receptionist, her strides long and urgent. She nodded at Jaime’s employees who greeted her, flushing because she couldn’t give them much more acknowledgement. She spied Jaime, Bronn and Peck through the glass walls of his office and hurried there. 

“Jaime,” she said as she burst into the the office.

Jaime, startled, asked, “Wife, what are you doing here?”

“You forgot something,” she scolded him gently. “Hey, Bronn. Hello, Peck.”

She reached in her bag and pulled out the external hard drive. 

The three men stared at her then the object she held.

And shouted. Brienne jumped, tightening her grip. 

“Seven Bloody Hells, you just saved us miserable fucks,” Bronn declared, hugging her tight and kissing her soundly on the cheek. Jaime, shoved him away none too gently and swept Brienne in his arms, his hands climbing to her face to press a circle of frantic kisses around it. As he did, he took the device from her and handed it to Peck. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, kissing her. “Thank you, thank you.”

Brienne kissed him back, giggling. “It feels good to save you, husband.”

“Gods, I love you so fucking much you wonderful, amazing, extraordinary—“ Jaime’s sentence was unfinished because he grabbed Brienne roughly by the back of her head and kissed her hungrily. Brienne moaned and kissed him back just as hard. 

_“Oh, Jaime.”_

Bronn rolled his eyes and grabbed Peck by the elbow to yank him out of the office.

“You’ll have to hold off the clients, Peck,” he said. “The Lannisters won’t be coming out for a while.”


	17. Wife and Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne tries to rescue Jaime but he mucks it up. Of course he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted the next chapter to be Jaime and Brienne at their most ridiculous, hence, the story you're about to read.

Winter had come. 

Months of early darkness, the never-ending workout of shoveling snow off the driveway, the cold, the blasted cold, drove everyone’s spirits down. Nobody wanted to step out of their cozy, warm homes. Anyone who did was deemed crazy.

This was the general consensus among the residents of Dragon Drive. It was an impressive feat since they have been consistent from the day they moved in but it was still insane. Yet, there went Jaime and Brienne, their heads encased in caps, heavy jackets making their broad frames more bulky (especially in the case of Brienne). Pink was the colour of Jaime’s face and red for Brienne but both exhaled white puffs of air. Together, they swept past houses in perfect synchronicity as they went on their morning run.

They ran to maintain their health but it was more to spend time with each other. With four children and increasingly demanding careers, time was not they had in great amounts. They still had date nights and neither had complaints with sex but each recognized the importance in prioritizing your spouse. It was given that the children came first. No matter what, they came first. Only they could precede your spouse, not work, not a buddy, nothing.

Thus, they ran every Saturday and Sunday morning. Sundays was reserved for family so Saturday really was the only day they had to themselves, and only a couple of hours. After their run, they would head to the Hungry Bear, a diner. The coffee refills were unlimited, the pancakes made from scratch, and despite the bustling atmosphere, they would have very intimate conversations. From there, they walked back home.

Jaime put an arm around Brienne’s waist and she smiled at him, the brightness of her eyes rivalling the cloudless sky above them. The heavy padding of their jackets meant they couldn’t hold nor stand as close as they’d like but they were together and satisfied from yet another good breakfast. And happy. Above all, happy. Briene took a deep breath and hummed at the soft, lemony hint of Jaime’s scent amidst the frigid air around them.

As they approached their house, Jaime remarked, “We need to get it repainted.”

Brienne squinted as the sun was shining right in her eyes. Their house was cream with dark blue shutters. “Why do you think?” She asked. “It looks fine to me.”

“We’ve not had it repainted since we bought it,” he pointed out. 

Brienne gave their house another look. “It looks fine as it is but if you think it needs repainting, then alright. I just hope it’s not too expensive.” 

“It’s going to be expensive. What’re you worried about?” Jaime teased her as they stopped by the fence encasing their house. “Do I have to remind you that you’re a Lannister?”

Brienne snorted. “That’s Tywin’s job.” She wagged a finger at him. “Do that and remember, no one wants to fuck Tywin.”

He made a face. “You really have to talk about fucking my father, don’t you?”

“Why not? It worked. You look green.”

Jaime shoved her playfully. Brienne shrieked and he burst out laughing, quickly running down their brick pathway. Thundered down the path he did and was almost to the house when the heels of his shoes encountered something slick and he fell, ass-first.

“Jaime!” Brienne cried out.

Still on the ground, he groaned, “Seven fucking hells!” 

She reached him, bending over him. “Husband, are you okay?”

“I think I just killed my butt,” he complained, heaving himself up and wincing. Brienne quickly helped him sit up. 

“Do you hurt anywhere else?” 

“Just my pride.” 

“Serves you right for pushing me,” she told him.

Jaime shot her a look. Brienne, unaware and helpful, didn’t see the mischievous spark in his emeralds eyes. He grinned and yanked her down with him. She landed hard.

_“Jaime!”_

“Serves you right for talking about fucking and my father.”

“You are such a child.” Brienne growled, sitting up. She shot to her feet. Jaime, suddenly powered by further mischief, scooped some snow from the side of the path and stood up too. She was still dusting herself off when Jaime shoved snow down her clothes. Her shriek probably woke up the sleeping wights of legend—it certainly drew their children and Taena to the window.

“Fuck— _you asshole!”_ Brienne shouted at Jaime, who was laughing. She lunged toward him. Slipping, she ended up smashing right onto him. They cried out as they fell.

“What’s up with Mommy and Daddy?” Ty asked Taena.

“You’re a right bastard, Lannister!” Brienne growled, slapping a hysterically-laughing Jaime on the chest and the face. Suddenly, she smirked, grabbed some snow. Too late did Jaime realize what she intended to do. His position under his wife, his body wracked with laughter, and his wife, stronger and heavier, sealed his fate: snow shoved down his pants.

“ _Aieee!_ Fucking—you—seven hells, wife!” 

“You started it!”

“You didn’t have to follow!”

“Oh, shut up!” Brienne continued to pin Jaime to the ground and stuffed more snow down his pants. 

Jaime actually howled. 

As they grappled and struggled to put more snow down each other’s clothes, each getting redder in the face by the minute though Brienne was leading by a mile, Taena hid a laugh behind her hand. Drew and Ty watched, fascinated, while Jason and Michael giggled. 

“Are they fighting?” Drew asked Taena.

Taena let out the laugh that had been wanting to rip out of her. “Sweetheart, everyone wishes that when and if they fight, they do it like your mom and dad. Come on, I have hot coco in the kitchen.”

As they returned to their breakfast, Brienne snarled, “Don’t you do it—Jaime, don’t— _aaah!_ That’s bloody cold! I can _not_ believe you put snow down there!”


	18. Partner (Part Two? Part Three?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lannister siblings find a champion against Tywin. Angst and smut ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Slowly, Towards You, At Last.

In the two years since becoming engaged to Jaime, Brienne had learned many things about him and his family. Complicated did not begin to describe the Lannister family dynamic. 

Such as that one dinner for shareholders of Lannister Corporation that Tywin would hold at the end of the year and he required his children to attend. Most fiancees would feel snubbed at being excluded from this event but not Brienne. Tyrion, Cersei and Jaime had told her enough horror stories about it and the longer she and Jaime remained merely affianced, the better. Her exclusion did not mean she had no idea what happened—she did. Always.

For this was when Tywin pressured his children to give up their hard-earned careers and dedicate their knowledge and expertise to running the company. Viewing them as disappointments and wasting their time, his money, his name to thankless pursuits, Tywin Lannister laid it on thick. As a result, his children were wretched at the end of the dinner. By some tacit agreement, they had decided to recover in Jaime and Brienne’s apartment in spite of its distance from Casterly Rock.

Brienne woke up to Jaime sound asleep beside her, still in his evening clothes except for the suit jacket he’d carelessly tossed at her feet. He smelled slightly of sweat and alcohol, the latter which she didn’t approve but understood. Jaime was not a big drinker but he tend to hit the bottle hard during dinners like this. She brushed his golden blond locks away from his forehead, saddened at the tiredness lining his face despite sleeping. 

Her touch was light and airy but it was enough to rouse him awake. As she quickly retracted her hand, he turned to her, emerald eyes bloodshot and hooded. He sighed and pulled her close. He breathed deeply her clean scent from her neck as if she was the very air. A soft, cooing sound drifted from her lips as he rubbed his nose at the sensitive spot below her ear before she felt him licking her. She turned on her back and he was quick to lay over her, kissing and licking her.

His breath was thick with alcohol and dry saliva but she kissed him back ardently, their kiss going from zero to a hundred miles an hour quickly. He needed her and she wanted him. Kissing, their tongues pushed deep in each other’s mouths, hands fighting the clothes that kept them apart—this was how they were there for each other and more. He wanted to forget. She wanted to give.

Tired from the night and his brain still flooded with the scotch he had mainlined, he couldn’t get very hard. He murmured an apology and she nodded, understanding.

But Jaime would never let anything stop him and right now it was to give her pleasure and to bask in the pleasure of seeing her come undone. He kissed and licked the long length of her legs over and over, sucking the bunched, hard muscles of her calves, drawing a shy smile from her. His lips warmed her palms, her inner wrists, a tongue flicking to trace the narrow, bluish veins under the skin. He sucked her finger, closing his eyes as the weak sunlight of the early morning bounced off the sapphire ring she wore. He smiled as he regarded her, pink and fighting to steady her breath, squirming at the gentleness of his touches. He leaned down and drank from her mouth again.  
He was harder now, but his too-slow movements and the careful way he was touching her told her he was still tired and wouldn’t be satisfying her—and Jaime hated that so she didn’t urge him. She let him kiss her and touch her, drive her insane at the languid pace. His tongue was lazy swipes around her nipples before he pulled nearly an entire breast into his mouth, sucking hungrily and growling. He laved her other breast twice as much, drunk with the taste of her skin.

It all ended when he lowered his head between her thighs and sucked her clit. Her gasps became strangled, pleading sounds, wordless but conveying a meaning that only he understood, and delivered. She bit her fist to soften her sounds—they weren’t alone in the apartment—while her other hand smoothed his hair, pulled and clutched. “Jaime,” she sobbed as his fingers joined in unraveling her. 

“Again,” he growled, raising his head briefly before tonguing her clit again.

She flung her hand from her mouth and held onto a bedpost. “Jaime.”

“Tell me.” He demanded. His green eyes were dark. “Tell me.”

“I love you,” she breathed. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

A sound, strangled, keening, and something like a grunt is ripped out of her as she came. He gripped her hips, so tightly, as if meant to crush bone, as he buried his tongue deeper inside her cut to catch the honey expelled. Brienne in the maelstrom of orgasm was breathtaking and Jaime thought he would endure more nights like the one just past if only to see her fall apart like this. She remained flat on her back, an arm over her eyes, pink and panting heavily as he pushed himself off her. Her t-shirt had been pushed to her neck, revealing the wet tracks of sweat sliding between her breasts, down her stomach, down that wonderful place he had just tasted. In the sun, her bush was pale gold tipped with the tiniest wet diamonds. 

He stretched out beside her, aroused but still tired, happy with what he’d done. Brienne removed her arm and looked at him, still red and getting redder.

“They heard us,” she told him in a small voice.

“Hmm. Tyrion, probably,” he admitted, keeping her hand still when she started dragging her t-shirt down. “Cersei’s knocked out.” Then he pushed his head toward her breasts, breathing deeply the faint vanilla of her skin and licking the sweat gleaming between them. “Why do you care if they heard you? When we fuck, I demand to hear you.”

She blushed and he grinned as he felt a sudden, feverish warmth from her chest. “Not when we have guests.”

“Huh. All the more,” he disagreed. He looked in her eyes. “Why can’t we just stay in bed all day and fuck?”

She made a sound between a cough and a gasp. “Jaime, we do that. . .every weekend.”

“Not enough. I wish we can just lock the door, throw away the key and fuck until we die.” His fingers lowered to her cunt again. Her legs quickly closed around his hand. “Tender?”

She nodded, biting her lip. Jaime kissed her on the mouth then asked, “Will you suck me?”

She nodded again. Her eyes brightened.

There was no need to ready him because he was already hard and straining in his pants. She soothed him with gentle licks up and down his shaft, the whole time keeping her beautiful sapphire eyes on him. His skin was a little salty and tasted of cotton and she loved it. He was big, always so big, that she had to open her jaw wide and angle her head just right to take him past her tongue, opening some more as his cockhead tickled the back of her throat. He groaned above her, his hand fisting hard in her messy hair. 

She looked at Jaime close his eyes, arching his neck as he came. His fingers in her hair stilled her head as his hips pumped against her face. “Brienne, Brienne,” he gasped, his hips rising a final time before he slumped heavily back on the bed. Brienne rested her head on his stomach, her mouth swollen. She turned, nuzzling the narrow strip of golden curls just below his navel.

“I should see to breakfast.”

“Stay here for a bit,” Jaime spoke dreamily. “Fuck, that was good. It’s always good with you.”

His praise made her feel good but she still blushed. She heard him laugh then he was pulling her up so she was lying beside him. He swiped a thumb on the corner of her mouth where some of his semen had spilled. “Can’t we just stay here?” He pleaded.

Jaime was ten years older but moments like this told her that he wasn’t the cocksure, arrogant, smug lion bastard that he often showed to the world. The nights such as the one Tywin had imposed rendered him like this, like a boy, lost, refusing to face the world. Brienne knew that in the coming weeks he would be going for long drives, wanting to run away from frustration and guilt, above all guilt. She would never fight him about this because she knew he wasn’t pushing her away. He needed to be himself. She just made sure she was there when he needed her. 

“I have a lecture,” she said, apologizing and reminding him of the real world just outside their door. 

He cupped her cheek. 

“Jaime, you look so tired,” she told him, taking in his droopy emerald gaze, the tightness in his jaw that was slowly returning. “Are you going to work?”

“I have a company to run,” he said, as if confessing.

He pulled her and kissed her full on the mouth, groaning as he tasted himself still thick on her tongue. She locked his head to her, kissing him back with equal hunger before they pulled away at the same time.

“You should get cleaned up. I’ll see you in the kitchen.”

He nodded and she slid off the bed. Her shorts were in a pile on the floor. As she put them on, he called to her, his voice strangely plaintive. She looked at him.

“Brienne,” he rubbed his eyes and looked to be debating with himself with what to tell her. Then he sighed and met her gaze. “I’m not always going to be like this.”

“I know.” 

“Still want to marry me?”

She pretended to think it over and grinned at him. “Is there a better offer?”

He rolled his eyes and threw a pillow at her. It hit her right on the face and she tossed it back to him, the impact harder. He lunged for her, grabbing her around the waist. He kissed her stomach as she ruffled his hair. She dropped kisses on his head, his hair, his forehead.

“Stop being an idiot, Jaime. There’s no chance in seven hells I’m changing my mind. I love you. I’m yours. And you’re mine.”

“Hmm. Even if I club baby seals for kicks?”

She winced at the unpleasant image he’d conjured up. “We’ll work around it but I hope you do it less, eventually.”

“What if I enjoy skinning people alive?”

“Same thing. I will still love you.”

“What if I—“

“Stop testing me, Jaime. My answer’s the same,” she said irritably.

He smiled happily and hugged her tight. “I love you too, Brienne.”

 

Brienne only had to call the Lannisters once to get them to the table. Cersei, beautiful despite her loose ponytail, in Brienne’s shirt that hung on her like a tent and jogging pants rolled a few times around the waist so the bottoms only graze the floor, hugged her and murmured her thanks before sitting down. Tyrion nodded at her and sits next to his sister. He was still dressed in his evening clothes save for the jacket he had flung on the couch. He took the pot to pour coffee into Cersei’s mug first before himself. 

Jaime was the last. He smiled at Brienne and kissed her on the neck before sitting down. He was showered and dressed in a clean suit. His hand on the small of her back urged her to join them so she did. 

She had prepared toast with fresh strawberry preserves, turkey bacon and frittatas. They ate quietly, having only the most minimal of conversations. Tyrion kept looking over at Cersei, who only nibbled on one piece of toast the entire time, her eyes downcast. He gave Brienne an awkward shrug, an even more awkward shrug. She glanced at Jaime and he took her hand from under the table, squeezing it. Something warm settled in her stomach when he didn’t let go.

“How many more days like this,” Cersei suddenly muttered but loud enough for them to hear. She looked up, looking at Brienne then at her brothers. “Father can’t keep doing this to us.”

“The only way to shut him up is for one of us to start taking over,” Tyrion said glumly. He looked at her then Jaime. “Are either of you interested?”

“Of course not,” Cersei replied as Jaime snorted, “Fuck, no.”

“Our answer has not changed ever since Father forced us to attend these things,” Tyrion said.

“I can’t—I can’t do this anymore.” Cersei declared. “For fuck’s sake. I can’t be unglued like this, questioning if my being a mother, wife, and doctor is worth any time simply because I’m not working for Father’s evil galactic empire.” She threw down the toast she was chewing on her place with disgust. Quickly realizing how this could be read, she looked at Brienne, suddenly pink in the cheeks. “Oh. Brienne. This—that—not that your cooking is bad far from it. I didn’t mean. . .and for you to do this when we just crash. . .I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Brienne quickly assured her. “I didn’t read anything into it.”

But the anxiety remained on Cersei’s face. Brienne glanced at Jaime, unsure of what to do. It was Tyrion who murmured something, putting his small, pudgy hand over his sister’s slender, elegant one when she nodded and apologized to Brienne again. 

“She’s right. We have to put an end to this,” Jaime said, his hand around Brienne’s tightening as if to draw strength from it. She pulled it to her lap. “We’re all doing something worthwhile, something we’ve all done and managed to achieve by ourselves. We can’t be going to these things anymore. Look at us. We’re fucking messed up and why the hell? What the fuck did we do that’s so wrong?”

“None of us have need for power,” Tyrion answered. He shot a wry smile at Brienne. “The greatest disappointment of Tywin Lannister’s life. Well, after my being born a dwarf.”

Cersei narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t you ever say that again, Tyrion, or I’ll throw you out of the window.”

Brienne saw Tyrion’s eyes soften.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Brienne asked them. Two pairs of wide emeralds looked at her and a mismatched one. Blushing at her uncharacteristic boldness, she hurried on. “I mean. . .um, maybe he’ll listen to reason. You all have legitimate reasons for not wanting to head LannCorp—why would he force you?”

“Honey,” Jaime said, drawing it out to more than two syllables. His voice was all knowing and sarcastic. She cocked an eyebrow. 

“What?”

“That’s how Tywin operates. The only way he operates.”

“You have to give your father more credit than that,” Brienne told them, too late to back out now. “He’s not. . .he can’t be that terrible—“

Tyrion nodded. “More.”

Cersei sighed. “For sure."

Jaime shot them a look. “Listen to Brienne, will you?”

Brienne flushed and hunched her shoulders. “Um, maybe I shouldn’t. . .”

“No.” Cersei said firmly. “What do you think we should do?”

Brienne glanced at Jaime then told her, “Talk to Tywin. Maybe he’ll listen.”

“Sister,” Tyrion drawled. “Tywin doesn’t listen to his children. What makes you think he'll listen to you? What did he always tell us?” He asked Cersei and Jaime.

“The Lannisters send their regards?” Jaime asked.

“A lion doesn’t care for the opinions of sheep,” Cersei said.

“Lots of things. I’m thinking of how children are never heard.” Tyrion shrugged. “We pay taxes but as far as Tywin is concerned, we’re not to be heard.”

“He won’t listen to his children.” Cersei said thoughtfully. “But there’s one he does.”

She and Tyrion looked at Brienne, who reddened even more. Jaime, realizing what it meant, shook his head vehemently. “Oh no. No. I am not having my fiancée talking to Father and having his nasty claws sink—“

“He listens to her, Jaime.” Tyrion pointed out, frowning then smiling. "Yes. I just realized. My mistake. He does listen to her."

“N-No.” Brienne protested.

“Even if we cloak her in three layers of bulletproof vest, armour, hells, we can put her in a fucking tank, I am still putting my foot down.” Jaime’s jaw was set tightly as he glared at his brother and sister. When Brienne made a grunt of protest, his head whipped to her and he snarled, “No.”

“I can help.” She pleaded. “Let me help.”

“Brienne—“

“Look, I may not be legally part of this family but you’re already family. If you think Tywin will listen to me I’d certainly like to try. Cersei’s right. We can’t have any more days like this.” 

“Alright.” Jaime’s eyes went to the ceiling before drifting back to her. “Let’s say Tywin listens to you. What makes you think he’ll do as you ask? Tywin doesn’t do what anyone asks. Even you.”

“We don’t know that yet,” she snapped.

“Jaime, please,” Cersei begged.

Jaime gave her a warning look and turned back to Brienne. She met his stare then said to Tyrion and Cersei, “I’ll only talk to Tywin if Jaime’s okay with it. If he’s not then I won’t. I’m not guaranteeing results but I will try if Jaime allows me.”

“That’s a reasonable condition. Jaime, Brienne wants to contribute.” Tyrion remarked. “Being that Father is all about Lannisters making a contribution I don’t see why we shouldn’t let somebody who will be do her part.”

“I don’t like it one bit.” Jaime declared. “Brienne, Tywin will eat you alive.”

“You have so little faith in me, Jaime.”

“That I do in barrels. I know Tywin.”

“And?”

Jaime glared at his brother and sister before giving Brienne a resigned look. He knew when he was beaten. Those blue eyes were his undoing.“He’ll talk to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This latest chapter has two parts, so the next one will be a showdown between Brienne and Tywin.


	19. The Lioness of Lannister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne talks to Tywin about his children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a continuation of the previous one. It calls back to Slowly, Towards You, At Last and also bridges I Am Yours And You Are Mine. This is also when Jaime starts calling Brienne "Wife." It also hints that this is why Brienne is Tywin's favourite Lannister.

“I still don’t like it,” Jaime was saying.

It was the night before Brienne’s meeting with Tywin and Jaime remained unconvinced that any good would come from it. His foremost concern was sending his fiancée unprotected in the lion’s lair—the imposing, cold offices of LannCorp. He couldn’t sway her into moving it to Friday dinner, where at least he could be there with her should shit hit the fan. Brienne pointed out that if things didn’t end well it was going to be an awkward dinner and she refused to take any responsibility for what in her mind was a sacrosanct time for the Lannisters. It was frustrating. Here he was worried about what Tywin might do to his fiancée and she was more concerned with, well, manners and schedule. With both of them on opposite sides of a brewing row, Jaime did the best thing he knew to diffuse the tense situation: he fucked Brienne. On that they were very agreeable. 

Jaime stared at the half-closed door of the bathroom, where Brienne had just finished brushing her teeth and was now putting a small dot of pimple cream on her chin. Finished, she turned to leave but did not go to Jaime right away. She stared at him from the door, her heart softening at his obvious concern for her even when he lay sprawled on the bed like a well-satisfied, albeit grumpy lion. There was still heat in his gaze as he looked at her with arrogant, male appreciation, lingering for moments on her still-swollen mouth and past the bottom of her t-shirt, at the dark pink flush on her thighs from where his beard had scraped her. 

“What else is there to do?” She pointed out gently, joining him in bed. He lifted the blanket for her to crawl in, showing that he was still nude. Her legs were melted butter and her face warm as a furnace as he drew her to his chest, draping her leg over his hip. Her breath was shaky and fast as he dragged her t-shirt to her waist and held her to him with his arm cupped around her bare bottom. She caressed his cheek softly, hesitantly, not out of fear but because of the overwhelming love she felt for this man. 

“Your father only wants his legacy secured, Jaime. Granted, he’s a tyrant about it but I have to believe there’s a part of him that understands the importance of being your own person. After all, he also defied his father’s wishes.” She kissed him on the cheek and said, “I still think that it’s best if you, Cersei and Tyrion talk to him but given how. . .emotional things could get, I should do it.”

“Marrying me doesn’t mean putting yourself in front of the firing squad,” he pointed out glumly, taking her hand from his cheek and kissing it. His lips lingered on the finger that held her sapphire engagement ring.

She smiled. “Loving you does.”

He sighed in frustration and cupped her face. They knew he could not talk her out of it.

“When we visited Tarth for the first time, you told me to stand down when it was clear my father did not readily accept you. It was the hardest thing you asked of me and I was so angry because you were asking me to let my father walk all over you and do nothing about it. I didn’t like it but I did it anyway. I did it because you said that while you loved me, you refused to be the wedge that might drive my father and I apart. But more because you asked and I love you. We’re going to do things for each other we won’t like and we’re going to fight about it,” she said, her lips a whisper away from his, her cheeks warm and pink as she repeated the words he told her nearly a year ago. “Let me do this, Jaime, please. If I don’t. . .I know you said you won’t always be like that but I can’t. . .I can’t just stand on the sidelines and watch you destroyed like that again and again.” 

She leaned forward to kiss him, speaking through it that it broke her heart to see him hurt like that, by the very person who should love and protect him. He breathed loudly, deeply, and went to her, easily coaxing her mouth to open and let his tongue inside. “Please?” She pleaded, pulling away briefly then returning with a more passionate kiss. “Please, Jaime?” 

He tugged her lower lip between his teeth before releasing it with a wet pop. Eyes hooded with lust, he groaned, “Why do you get more amazing every day?” As he spoke, he pulled her up so she was straddling his lap. He grabbed her t-shirt and yanked it over her head. He groaned at the sight of her powerful, nude body, all muscle and the softest skin. Freckles. So many freckles. Then he kissed her, hands spanning her body, from the sides of her tits to her waist, her buttocks. He nuzzled her throat, behind her ear, collarbones, alternating with airy kisses. 

“I do not,” she protested weakly, holding tightly on his shoulders as she felt herself caught in the violent rush of hunger for him. 

He grinned and looked at her. “Yeah, you do.” Then, solemnly, said, “I love you.”

 

Brienne climbed up the steps of the main headquarters of LannCorp, an imposing structure of concrete and glass that stood the tallest among the buildings of the financial district of Westeros. She had been tensed all day, wondering if she was doing the right thing and fearing she would fuck up. Her phone was barraged with messages from Tyrion and Cersei giving her their thanks for just doing this, until they stopped—probably because of Jaime. Jaime was anxious too but at least he just kissed her before they left the apartment, kissed her and said he loved her. He loathed that a major photo shoot had been scheduled today, making it impossible for him to get out.

Past the revolving glass door was a lobby designed to stamp into the visitor’s mind the power and might of the Lannisters. Carved, bronzed lions standing on their hind legs and snarling greeted you. Above the security counter where you signed in and got your ID was a huge flat screen that dispayed LannCorp’s logo, a snarling lion with the name between its powerful teeth. This was followed by a presentation on automatic repeat showing the many industries in which the Lannisters were involved in: shipping, real estate, communication, finance, technology, science and transportation. If it hadn’t occurred to Brienne before that it wasn’t only Jaime she was marrying but this empire, she realized it now. It was a hard blow to the solar plexus and she gulped. 

Oh, she knew Jaime was wealthy and never had to work at all but she was more familiar with him as an ad agency man, frittata extraordinaire, best kisser and frankly, the most annoying and snarkiest person in the planet. Jaime wore tailored suits as easily as he did faded shirts gone worn and ratty with age and numerous spins in the washer. She had been to Casterly Rock many times and she should have felt the impact and implications of what their marriage would bring but this, standing in the middle of a lobby rendered in marble and glass, was the first time. And by the Seven, she was going head-to-head with Tywin Lannister. 

_What the fuck were you thinking?_

She was standing there, wide-eyed, bamboozled and sweating when she heard a perky voice calling her name. Blinking rapidly, she looked around and heard, “Miss Tarth? Miss Tarth? I’m over here. A little down.” So she glanced down and saw a very pretty brunette smiling and giving her a small tight wave. She was wearing a black suit, the side pocket of the blazer embroidered with the LannCorp logo. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Tarth. My name is Pia. I’ll be assisting you to Mr. Lannister’s office. If you will follow me, please?” 

The girl looked to be only a few years younger than her. Brienne had to mindful of her long strides lest she end up practically stepping on her. As they walked, she asked, “Uh, assisting me? And please, call me Brienne.”

Pia’s smiled widened, showing small, pearly teeth. “Oh, I can’t do that. But other things I can do for you as well. Would you like tea or coffee served when you meet with Mr. Lannister? We have every refreshment available here.” 

“No. I don’t need anything.”

She ushered Brienne past the cluster of people waiting for elevators, directing her to one marked private. Of course Tywin Lannister would have his own elevator, she thought, remembering that in Jaime’s old building, he also had his own elevator. Pia followed her in and pressed the button to the top floor.

Brienne checked her reflection on the wall. Her hair had just been cropped again so it wasn’t as messy as usual. Her face was clean. She wore a black sweater vest over her white, long-sleeved shirt, straight-legged khakis and loafers. In school, the outfit was okay but in the elegant and chilly atmosphere of LannCorp, she felt more awkward than usual. Pia, noticing her fidgeting, spoke up. “You look fine, Miss Tarth. That’s a lovely engagement ring. Matches your eyes exactly.”

“Thanks,” she said, flushing. “I’d be sure to tell Jaime.”

The elevator dinged as it stopped and the doors slid open. Pia practically skipped out, the movement graceful, while Brienne lumbered out. With another pretty smile, she told Brienne to follow her and guided her down the long, silent hallway. This was where the offices of the CEO, CFO, COO were located. Pia walked to the end of the hallway and opened the door. She greeted a secretary there, an efficient-looking woman who barely looked up at them and didn’t smile, just nodded. Brienne caught her name as something like Unella. Unella got up from her chair and knocked on the door across her desk. 

“Brienne Tarth, Mr. Lannister,” she said.

“Tell her to come in.” Tywin told her.

“I’ll wait for you here.” Pia informed Brienne.

Unella held the door open and Brienne ducked her head as she entered the room. Tywin Lannister, seated behind a flat glass desk and clearly in the middle of examining documents in between reading more from his laptop, stood up. She would never be able to get over how different his eyes were from Jaime’s. Both were green as emeralds. Jaime’s gaze could be sharp when needed but Tywin’s was something else—it was as sharp and as cold as a blade, and stared in a way as if to separate the flesh from the bones. His smile couldn’t shake this off. The first bars of an old song, The Rains of Castamere, began to play in her mind. It was commonly referred to as the `Lannister’ song but that was more of myth and legend than documented historical fact. Still, her mind couldn’t stop from playing the lyrics: _“And who are you, the proud lord said?”_

“Brienne,” he greeted her, standing up and walking around the desk. To her surprise, he hugged her briefly and kissed her on the cheek. “How good to see you. My son is taking good care of you, I can tell.”

“Thank you, uh, Tywin,” she said, fumbling over his name. He was dressed in a black suit, a crisp white shirt and a blood-red tie. “You too. I mean, you look well. Uh, how are you?”

“I’m good. And I’m glad you’re here because I was just about to take a break. A nice change from directors and businessmen, you know,” he told her, leading her toward the black leather couch on the other side of the office. He gestured for her to sit down. “I have to admit, I was surprised that you asked to see me and that it couldn’t wait until this Friday’s dinner.” His voice dropped conspiratorially. “I placed an order for fresh stag steaks. Robert’s going to kill me but what can he do? And you like steak, don’ you?” 

“Sure. Yes. That’s nice of you.”

“Things are going well with you and Jaime?” He asked as he sat down next to her. “My son could drive all the Seven to their deaths with his antics.”

“Jaime’s great,” she answered honestly. “Really, I couldn’t ask for more.”

“That’s good to hear.” He said. “And how’s your PhD coming along?”

“I’m almost done with my first year,” she answered. “There’s more expected of you but I love my classes.” 

“Good, good,” Tywin smiled at her proudly. Brienne blushed.

“Um, Tywin, I’m here to talk about Jaime,” she began, clearing her throat. “And Tyrion. And Cersei.”

“I saw them last week. Now, once you’re married to Jaime, you’ll be joining them too. You’ll love being among the captains of industry, Brienne.”

 _Sounds mortifying,_ she thought and hoped her thoughts weren’t obvious. Jaime liked to tease her for her very expressive eyes and guileless eyes. 

“I’m sure,” she echoed faintly. “Um, do they?”

“Do they what?”

“Do they love being around the captains of industry?”

Tywin gave her a strange look then asked carefully, “Why are you here, Brienne?”

Sweat pouring down her nape to her spine, she held up her hands. “Before anything else, I want you to know that this is solely my idea. None of your children pressed me and Jaime, especially, was very resistant. I was the one who convinced them I can do this. And I think, I really think, I should be the one because it involves your legacy and that’s a very emotional subject for the family.”

“The family?”

“Why you and your children, of course.”

He raised a gray eyebrow.

“Tywin,” she said, her voice earnest and she hoped, not pleading. “You have built an empire that is. . .unsurpassed. I understand—your children also do, by the way—that you wish to pass this on to them because you worked so hard and it’s what gave you. . .this.” She gestured loosely at their surroundings. “It’s a good life. That’s what my dad told me when he started trying to convince me to go to military school and eventually enlist.”

“Selwyn tried to get you to enlist?”

She nodded. “I knew it would make him proud if I did. I wanted him to be proud of me. But it wasn’t for me. I appreciate what the military gave him and I’m proud that my father is among the men that protects us but I had to make it clear to him that I’m to have a different life. Much as I would like nothing more than to make him happy by enlisting, I knew it was the wrong thing. It’s the hardest and longest time we’ve talked. But he understood and respected my decision.”

“And that’s what you’re asking from me,” Tywin mused.

“Your children excel in fields of their own choosing. Um. . .that’s not what you wanted but they really are the best in their jobs.” Brienne was trying to speak slowly because her heart was racing so fast. “I believe you know this too—why would you keep persuading them to work here, eventually take over? But—“

“Yes?” He prompted because she had paused.

“I’m not saying they will never work here,” she said, turning in her mind over and over the best way to say what she need to say, “but. . .you will have to ease up in how you. . .persuade them.”

Tywin’s eyes were emerald slits. “And how do they say I do it?”

The pink in her face beginning to redden, she said, “You show them how disappointed you are. Like ,you lay it on thick. And most of the time they know better than to listen but. . .on those dinners you have with your stockholders, I don’t know, I’m not there, but when they come home they look so. . .destroyed. As if nothing in the world will be right again and it goes on for weeks. So whatever happens stays with them and haunts them. I’m marrying Jaime,” she declared, sounding firm for the first time. “If my husband is going to end up devastated every time he goes to these things, I’m going to tell him to stop going because it’s cruel what you put him through and as his wife, I mean to protect him even from his own father.”

She stared at Tywin defiantly, who continued to look at her. She hoped her chin wasn’t wobbling—her knees definitely were knocking together. 

“Jaime is the best man I know. But you make him out to be the worst. He’s your son. You are part of who and what he’s become. You can’t be as horrible as your children painted you to be. I want to believe you’ve contributed to their goodness because you yourself are a good person.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Tywin asked, brow wrinkled. “Only you believe that I have this, what do you call it—goodness, and my children don’t?”

“Maybe they get so miserable after those dinners because they care about what you think despite saying otherwise.” She told him gently. “And because it has gone on so long that they just don’t know what to do anymore but just take what you say and shake it off after a few weeks. It doesn’t have to be that way, Tywin.”

 

When Jaime opened the door to their apartment, the warm aroma of beef and tomato sauce greeted him. He immediately found Brienne in the kitchen, head bowed as she chopped spinach, her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked up as he shut the door, her eyes big, sapphire pools, face flushed from the heat surrounding her as she cooked. Then she went back to work.

Fuck, this was bad. Jaime thought, immediately blaming himself. He shouldn’t have allowed her. He stared at her hunched shoulders, her unsmiling face that made her look uglier and all the more heartbreaking and wonderful to him. He went to her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and kissing her between the shoulders. She was stiff but softened as his arms tightened.

“I tried, Jaime,” she whispered, putting the knife away. Then she turned and hugged him. He hugged her back. “Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” He told her. 

“Still—“ she pulled away a bit to look at him but he shook his head at her.

“You tried. And I love you more for trying,” he said. 

“Oh, Jaime,” she groaned, cupping his face and leaning down to kiss him. He quickly tipped his chin up to receive her kiss, his arms gripping her now. They kissed, losing themselves in the comfort of tongue and warm breath, whispered declarations of love. Brienne turned her head away but kept close so Jaime could still kiss her randomly on the temple, her cheek, her ear. She sighed and leaned against him heavily. Jaime didn’t stagger back. He was strong and could hold her easily. 

“I love you,” he told her again.

She stared at him. “I love you too.”

Reluctantly, they untangled away from each other so she could continue cooking. Jaime gave her another kiss before telling her he’ll just get changed then help her cook. She nodded, giving him a small smile. But before he could leave, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and froze at the name flashing.

“It’s Tywin.”

Brienne paled.

As the phone continued to ring, Jaime told her fiercely, “If he so much as he suggests that I end things with you I’m going to march over to wherever he is, tell him to fuck off and wring his neck. I love you. You’re all I want and I’d be the biggest fool to even think of letting you go, and a much bigger one if I do as my father demands. You hear me, Brienne?” He grabbed her left hand and showed her the ring. “I’m yours,” he declared, eyes bright. “And you are mine.”

Brienne gasped because he had just spoke traditional wedding vows. Nodding quickly, her eyes practically swallowing up her face, she answered, “Yes, Jaime. I am yours. And you’re mine.”

He kept his hand around her as he answered the call. “Father.”

Brienne held her breath, watching Jaime’s face go from angry to contemplative to stunned. Oh no, she thought, squeezing his hand. He looked at her and drew her close. Her other hand covered her mouth. _Oh gods, Tywin is really doing it. What have I done?_

“Yes.” Jaime’s voice was clipped. “I’ll let her know. Right away.”

Brienne bit her lip to stop the whimper from coming out of her as Jaime ended the call and tossed his phone on the table. He stared at her, his face inscrutable. He looked pissed as he took in the defeat in her face.

“None of that,” he told her, his voice tender. He kissed her left hand and took the other from her mouth, kissing it too. “Well, that was my father.”

“What did he say?” Brienne practically shouted. Jaime looked startled and she blushed. “Sorry.”

Suddenly, a big smile spread across his face.

“He demands that we set a wedding date soon,” he said. “And also grandchildren. Preferably in that order.”

_“What?”_

Jaime laughed and hugged her tight. “Guess you got through him.” He bit her ear playfully. “Mommy.”

“Jaime, don’t you fucking dare call me Mommy,” she snapped, her face pink and red in various spots as she reared her head back. Still disbelieving, she said, “He really said that? Not that I’ve crossed the line or sticking my head in things that have nothing to do with me? He didn’t tell you to break up with me?”

“He wants me to fuck you and keep you pregnant.” He joked.

_“Jaime, he didn’t!”_

“Okay, that was me. But more or less, he wants us to marry soon so he can have grandchildren. Doesn’t understand why we’re waiting around when it’s clear I’m crazy about you.” As Brienne continued to look doubtful, he added, “Now that was him. Really. You can call him to check.” 

Now that she could breathe again, she was able to smile and laugh. He smiled back and kissed her, long and leisurely. Brienne sank against him, happily kissing him back.

“If I can’t call you Mommy,” Jaime murmured between kisses, “Can I call you wife?”

“Wife?” She echoed, still dazed. She kissed him back, shivering all over yet warm. “Yes. Oh, Jaime,” she added, wrapping her arms around him and holding tight. “I love you so much.”

“Never stop. _Wife._ ”


	20. A Hero's Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime is VERY HAPPY when Brienne returns.

It will never be clear who initiated the game but the children were consistent when asked about what happened. Somebody thought it was a good idea to lick faces. By the time the adults in the playground got wind of it, the virus had spread. Within two days, about half the children was down with the flu and a couple of adults—including the Lannister twins’ nanny Taena Merryweather.

This meant that Taena was at home recovering, leaving Jaime with four children. Brienne was in a three-day conference where she was keynote speaker and also presenting another paper. There was no way to cut her trip short. With no nanny and Jason and Michael both screaming their heads off due to their high fever and vomiting, plus the doctor’s warning that their strain of flu appeared to be very contagious, Jaime had no choice but to farm out his other sons. Tyrion and Margaery thus took in Drew and Ty. 

Though the number of kids have been halved, Jaime hardly got any rest. Round the clock he had to monitor their fever. He had to force them to eat. Getting them to take the foul-tasting medicine was a different battle altogether, one he would give his right hand to if only the twins would stop screaming about the cruelty their father was inflicting on them. He was forever cleaning up vomit, wiping the children clean before getting them into clean clothes. And of course, they demanded a story to be read every night. 

By the third morning, when Jaime managed to snatch a few minutes to himself, he stared at his reflection in the mirror and didn’t recognize the man. His eyes were bloodshot and his face deeply lined with exhaustion. The sweater he was wearing had dried splotches of vomit and to his horror, realized that he had been wearing it for days already. _He had been wearing the same vomit-stained sweater for two fucking days._ Which meant he hadn’t had a shower. Nor brushed his teeth. No wonder, he thought, wincing at his unkempt beard, he looked like a scraggly lion.

He had a quick shower and changed his clothes. He shaved, liking that his jaw was smooth again. Close to feeling half-human, he checked on Jason and Michael. Jason’s fever was still high but had slept through the night this time. Jaime stuck the thermometer under Michael’s armpit, waited then read the digital display. The fever had broke. Thank the gods. 

The children were still stuck with bland food to ensure their digestive system didn’t act up again. He also had them sip tea and lukewarm water. Of course, there was another fight getting them to take their medicine. Jason cried big fat tears and spat it out, hitting Jaime right in the eye with the sticky liquid. Michael, feeling a little better but still pretty sick, wailed for Mommy. 

By the time it was afternoon, Jaime was drained in every aspect of his well-being. He had no intention of leaving the couch and hoped that if the gods were merciful, the children would sleep until the next day. He dozed off.

He didn’t wake up until early evening. He jerked from the couch, stunned and disoriented as he stared at the darkness around him. It was quiet. Too quiet. Panicking, he ran to the children’s rooms and threw the door open. Jason and Michael were fast asleep. A hand on Jason’s forehead told him he wasn’t as hot anymore. His eyes opened briefly, beautiful and almost as blue as his mother’s as he smiled at Jaime. Michael stirred when Jaime checked on him next. He frowned, his nose scrunching as Jaime pulled the blanket to his chin. _Just like his mother,_ he thought, smiling and kissing him. 

Jaime was in the kitchen going through the small pile of takeaway fliers when he heard the front door opening. Holding them, he went out and there, standing in the living room, pulling off her coat to reveal clothes rumpled by travel, was his dearly beloved wife. The flyers fluttered unnoticed to the floor as he all but ran to her.

Brienne turned, her jaw dropping at the sight of Jaime clearly looking sleep-deprived despite the twinkle in his emerald eyes at her arrival.  
“I moved my flight earlier,” she explained as they rushed to each other. “I was going crazy—“

Jaime’s relieved, hungry kiss cut off her sentence. Startled, Brienne’s mouth simply lay open as he ravished it before she recovered after a moment and kissed him back. He groaned against her mouth as he seized her roughly to his chest, too happy to mind that she felt a little dusty and sticky, that she smelled more of sweat than vanilla. _She was here._ Everything was going to be alright. Gods, everything was alright now. Jaime growled her name as their kiss deepened. 

“Husband,” Brienne gasped as they continued kissing. “Jaime, you look tired, you have to let me—“

Jaime shook his head. He needed sleep, yes. But he was desperate for his wife. _She was here._ At long fucking last. He yanked at the button of her jeans and pulled them open instead of unzipping them. Brienne, understanding right away what he needed right now, nodded and started undoing his clothes too. 

They fucked against the wall, still half-dressed. They were too drunk and too hot from their desire for each other to notice the difficulty in maneuvering still wearing their clothes, much less getting the deed done against the wall. Brienne’s fingernails were buried in the skin of Jaime’s back. His own had burrowed in the soft skin of her backside. It wasn’t the best but it satisfied. Boy, it sure did. 

Their hands were still shaking as they righted each other’s clothes. Brienne cupped Jaime’s face tenderly as he rested his forehead on hers. She rubbed her lips against his and whispered, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I managed just fine,” he said, kissing her fully. He had buttoned her shirt crookedly. There was a big gap between buttons, allowing a pink nipple to peek out. His head lowered to take it in his mouth, groaning as her taste filled him. Above, Brienne sighed and cradled his head, kissing him along his hairline. His hot mouth feasted on her sweet breasts, her flavour replacing the dryness on his tongue. Her breath sped up with each kiss, pushing her nipple deeper past his lips. Jaime growled against the swollen nub as she began to grope for his cock. Their orgasm was quick, too quick. Brienne slumped against the door, Jaime with his head resting on her shoulder. He pulled her down for a lazy, seeking kiss. She tucked his cock back in his pants, zipping him up. He buttoned her shirt correctly now. 

“You look like it,” she murmured when they were eye to eye again. Her face was bright pink. She smiled gently. “But I’m here now. Off to bed, you.”

She meant for him to go alone. Never in Jaime’s life did he think those were the sexiest words she’d say to him. His smile was tired yet happy and he kissed her again, drinking deeply from her mouth and tongue. He pulled her away from the door. Yes, he needed sleep. He would like to wake up next week but that meant letting his wife go and he wasn’t ready to do that yet.

“Give me another kiss,” he demanded softly, taking it from her before she agreed. Her soft laugh hit his tongue and she gave him one, long and passionate. 

“Now, rest,” she urged him. 

“Another,” he insisted, swooping close to claim her red, thick lips again.

After a too-brief suction, she put a hand on his chest and pressed firmly, pushing him away from her. “Husband, you have to rest. You look like you haven’t gotten any sleep. It’s my turn to take care of the children and you.” She hugged him then. “You are so great. Thank you for holding the fort, Jaime.”

“I just about managed,” he admitted. “They only wanted you.”

She put a comforting kiss on his lips. “That must have been hell.”

He pulled her to his chest again. “I really missed you. Not just because our sons were sick and didn’t want me. I really, truly missed you.”

“I missed you too. I was worried about you and the children.”

“Why would you be worried about me?” He asked, his lips pressed one her shoulder.

“I was mad with worry about the children but even more about you. One sick child is hard enough. Try two.” Brienne said. “And I was right to worry judging from how you look now. So once again, my wonderful, very patient husband, go to bed and rest. I’ll be alright.”

“You haven’t even had dinner. At least let me make you a sandwich—“ Jaime said as Brienne took him by the elbow and propelled him to the stairs with her.

“I’ll make one myself when I get hungry. Jaime, don’t make me carry you to bed,” she told him firmly. 

He laughed. “That I’m almost tempted to do.” 

Then he leaned forward to kiss her but instead sneezed. Brienne winced as a big note hit her right in the cheek.

“Fuck, wife, I’m so sorry.” Jaime was horrified. Quickly, he wiped the cuff of his sleeve on her face. But Brienne looked concerned and she pressed the back of her hand on his forehead, then his neck. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Yeah, Jaime, I think you’re coming down with what our sons have. You really have to go to bed,” she said, frowning.

“I'm just tired," he insisted. "But if you insist, will you tuck me in?” He asked, suddenly willing to do as she’d been telling him since her arrival. “Hug me if I vomit and kiss me when I scream for you?” _Sick indeed. He didn't get sick!_

By the gods, husband, you’re probably the only man I know who’s happy to be sick,” Brienne said in exasperation as they reached the bedroom. She pulled the sheets back and pointed to the closet. “Get into warm pajamas then off to bed with you. I’m checking on our babies. If you’re not in bed when I return, I will make you scream and you won’t like it.” She smirked as he rolled his eyes but she was clearly serious. 

Sighing loudly, Jaime marched to their closet. Brienne checked on him a short while later, sticking the thermometer under his armpit. He had a temperature. Jaime reluctantly acquiesced that his lightheadedness wasn’t just from her return but his fever too. Despite feeling like hell, he was pleased to see the pink splotches on Brienne’s cheeks at his words. Yes. It was really good to have her back.

The next morning, Jason and Michael were feeling much better. They pounced on their mother happily, squealing and peppering her with kisses. Brienne couldn’t stop hugging and kissing them back, glad to be home. It was adorable how they resisted her orders that they nap (Just like their stubborn father, she thought fondly) some more after breakfast because they worried she would leave. “Mama’s not leaving,” she reassured them, kissing Jason on the forehead and hugging Michael. The twins eventually relented. While they roared like injured lions when Jaime gave them their medicine, they were flushed, adorable angels with Brienne. 

Brienne went to her husband, armed with a tray of clear soup and a warm beverage.

No sooner had she put the tray down when Jaime, feverish yet clearly not letting this stop him from expressing joy at her presence, pounced on her, peppered her with kisses and minutes later, made her squeal, laugh and moan.


	21. The Woman I Love: Take Me Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime is a horny, happy drunk so Brienne takes him home. Fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated this fic for so long! So here's a short chapter. Thank you!

For the third straight year, LSM Creatives was once again Advertising Agency of the Year. Jaime, Bronn and Addam let out loud whoops as it was announced, receiving hugs and kisses from their wives before they turned to each other and gave high-fives. Brienne grinned at Ashara and Lollys as Bronn led Jaime and Addam to the stage. Applause followed the three men.

It was Jaime who did the speech the first time they won, then Bronn and tonight, it was Addam’s turn. Brushing a hand through his shoulder-length copper hair, he went to microphone and grinned at the audience. He seemed to look for someone in the crowd before his eyes rested on Ashara. Brienne saw Ashara turn pink, making her look more beautiful and striking and she blew a kiss to her husband. Addam’s grin widened and his arm shot out to mimic catching it. It drew a laugh from the crowd.

“When LSM Creatives started, it was just the three of us, best friends bound by a love for advertising. Standing here, holding this,” he said, gesturing at the elegant glass plaque he held, “was a really hazy dream. We were so afraid of failing that we couldn’t even let ourselves dream big. Bit by bit, we got the jobs, clients started trusting us. That dream became clearer. Even now, this very moment, we think we’re still dreaming and it’s the clearest we’ve had so far. We wouldn’t be here if not for the people who tirelessly work with us day and night, from our assistants, our secretaries, our accounts staff, the guys in creatives. We would also like to thank our wives and families for understanding the late nights we had to put in, just so we could make this dream come alive. It was just Jaime, Bronn and I in the beginning, and we’ve learned, and continue learning, that to be successful and so blessed means working and trusting the very best, surrounding ourselves with people who don't just share our vision but believe in us. LSM Creatives got the luck of the draw on that. We thank the Westeros Board of Advertisers for recognizing our efforts and hard work.”

More applause rang out as they descended the stage and returned to their table. Brienne stood up and met Jaime when he was halfway, throwing her arms around him. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m so glad that you’re doing so well with what you love.”

“Hey,” He said, butting his forehead playfully against hers. “This isn’t all me, wife. It’s Drew, Ty, Jason and Michael. Then you. You above all.”

After the program was dancing and hobnobbing. If Brienne had her way, they would just go home and celebrate in private but this was Jaime’s night. People approached them all night, fellow ad men like Jaime and some potential clients. She would try to draw away because of the curious looks she was getting due to her height but he kept either an arm around her waist or held her hand. Every time someone would introduce himself, Jaime would nod and smile at Brienne. “Nice to meet you. This is my wife, Brienne. She’s an associate chair in King’s Landing University Literature Department.”

The night was LSM Creatives’ and it was the perfect opportunity for networking and potential new clients. However, Jaime couldn’t be bothered and instead dragged Brienne to the dance floor. He kissed her shoulder and told her, grinning at her pink cheeks and red neck, “I want people to see the woman behind the man. She’s the best.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered right before he spun her then dipped her. She gasped, looking up at his handsome, grinning face, his eyes brilliant like raw emeralds before straightening up and taking her with him. 

As they continued dancing, he teased her, “I may be, wife, but you gotta admit, that impressed you.”

She laughed. “I’ll let you know.”

If they weren’t on the dance floor, Jaime was helping himself to champagne. He was happy and she had no wish to rain on his parade. The problem was as he slowly got drunk, the more he got handsy and complimentary to friends. He praised Bronn for not looking like a wrinkled handbag, winked at Lollys and declared she could do so much better. He said Ashara was hot but because he was drunk, Addam was giving her a close match. Brienne rolled her eyes while everyone swore at Jaime that if they didn't like Brienne so much they would have happily murdered him.

To Brienne, he filled her ears with the fifties compliments. She had the cutest, sexiest tits. He thought her cunt was the most sinful dessert. He wanted to die between her endless legs. As she blushed and pinched him, he whispered theatrically, "Blue is a good colour on you, my lady, my wife, my moon and stars."

They both wore blue, Jaime a deep navy tux that made his lean, muscular figure look sharper and taller, Brienne in a strapless very dark blue dress it was almost black. The women wore long, flowing gowns but hers was a strapless cocktail that ended at the knee, showing legs that looked longer in stilettos. During the drive, Jaime had groaned that she was torturing him displaying her amazing skin and sexy freckles. 

When Jaime helped himself to his fifth glass of champagne, they were back at their table. He pulled Brienne for a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue briefly touching the tip of her own, his hands cupping her face. Brienne wasn’t for public displays of affection but due to her high at his success and the champagne from his lips transferring to hers and flooding her veins, she was beginning to think it wouldn’t be a bad idea to climb on his lap and keep kissing him.

The second she thought that, she knew what they had to do.

“Let’s go home, husband,” she murmured, drawing back a little but keeping her lips on him. 

Jaime made a mewling, protesting sound and tugged her harder to his chest. “But we’re fine here.”

She laughed as he started kissing her throat, his hands sliding to her shoulders then down her arms. “Gods, Brienne,” he groaned, raking his teeth on her supple skin before his lips pursed around the spot and started to suck. “I don’t know how I’m able to leave in the morning when I can spend the rest of my life just kissing you like this.”

It was corny but she loved it. She put her hands on his shoulders and gently urged him away from her.

“This would be better done at home, husband.” She said and then whispered. “In bed.” As a heavy blush  
overwhelmed her face, she managed to stammer, “Uh, and naked.”

There was no stopping her loud, horsey guffaw when Jaime suddenly shot to her feet and gallantly offered his hand to her. “Well, wife. You just said the magic word.” 

Brienne took her purse before putting her hand in his. “But I’m driving. You’re drunk. And you’re going to keep your hands to yourself until we get home,” she had to add as he pulled her to him again and started kissing her throat and shoulders. Her blush deepened as the hard, warm bulge of his erection prodded at her stomach. Alcohol certainly didn’t hinder Jaime Lannister’s abilities but enhanced them in that area

“Ugh, wife. You drive a hard bargain, but okay.” Jaime said before he nibbled on her lower lip and sucked boldly.

They said their goodbyes and headed out. Jaime pulled out the stub from his jacket pocket and Brienne took it to the valet. 

The night was pleasantly warm despite the breeze that ruffled Brienne’s hair. They stood just outside of the hotel holding hands, waiting until their SUV would swing by. 

Unknown to Brienne, Jaime had begun to sober up the moment she told him they were going home. The promise of fucking his wife and tasting her moans fixed him up fast. He looked up at her, loving how the overhead lights from the ceiling and the surrounding buildings wrapped around her like a halo. Her straw-blond hair gleamed like platinum and her pale skin looked as lustrous as alabaster. The black mascara she wore not only outline the round shape of her eyes but made her blue gaze more vivid. Finally, his eyes rested on her mouth, red and swollen from their kisses. 

As it always was when he took pleasure just looking at her, there was the familiar catch in his heart, a pleasant fluttering in his stomach and a sure weakening in his knees. Jaime was glad that Addam made sure to thank their wives and families in his speech. It wasn’t the determination to make LSM Creatives the top advertising agency that spurred them to work harder and harder. It was because of people like Brienne who never stopped believing in them. Brienne who encouraged him, urged him to fight, listened and gave him advice. Brienne who snorted at his sometimes-cheesy ideas before giving him a beautiful, crooked smile when he got one right. 

On Jaime’s desk at work was a photo of Brienne, her head thrown back in laughter. She was surrounded by their four children, Drew tugging at her hair, Jason’s small hands on her face as he kissed her on the chin, Michael and Ty looking on and also giggling. On late nights, when Jaime was frustrated and wanted to give up, he only had to look at the photo to give him that needed push to try again. 

But really, it was all to Brienne. She who loved him in spite of all he had done. Loved him more, actually. 

With a woman like Brienne at your side, how could you not succeed?

“Wife?” Jaime squeezed her hand to get her to look at him. He brushed back strands of rough, pale hair that feathered her forehead and cheek. He looked in her eyes and there, the clarity that only came when he looked into such eyes. Everything was suddenly still. There was only one thing he knew.

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired and turned on its head by NCW Gwen's Emmy outfits. I hope you like it!


	22. Sister (Part Three)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cersei freaks out and Brienne tries to calm her down. 
> 
> Happens some time after the events in False, Positive.

Jaime braked the car, bringing the gentle growl of the engine to a purr before silence followed. Brienne was leaning over him, looking up at the sleek, modern house before them before her eyes found his.

“I don’t know how I can be of help,” she admitted, flushing as she looked at her lap. “Cersei’s been a mother longer than I am.”

“Robert doesn’t know what to do.” Jaime said, looking as baffled and unsure. He reached across for her hand and she quickly twined her fingers through his. She could feel the dents and ridges from when he’d held the wheel, the slight roughness in his palm. The heat of the car was quick to recede, the mist outside that hinted at the imminent arrival of winter making its way inside. But Jaime’s hand remained warm. She held it between her hands and just looked at it, not knowing why Robert had called them.  
“If he thinks I can help. . .” she started to say before shrugging. 

Cersei was pregnant, as confirmed during hers and Jaime’s birthday weekend at Casterly Rock. She had been elated over the news due to her history of miscarriages. It was a shock to Robert since they agreed a few years ago that she was supposed to undergo ligation early since aside from miscarriages, her experience with pregnancy was always difficult, and the turmoil of the loss of another child unimaginable. She couldn’t go through and kept it a secret from Robert. 

But Robert was not upset although the couple worried that this might not end well again. Cersei would be a little over three months now. When Robert called them sounding helpless and grave, they assumed the worst. He wouldn’t give them any more details.

“How is your sister. . .I mean, do you think she would even agree with what Robert wants me to do?” Brienne asked, frowning. 

Jaime sighed. “I didn’t know about the miscarriages until recently. Cersei and I are not as close as she and Tyrion are. But my sister tends to be shut down when something bad happens.” He leaned against the headrest, his beautiful, elegant, square-jawed profile facing her. “Like when our mother died. She locked herself in the room. She only let Tyrion in. I don’t really know how she is but what matters is someone’s there for her.” He looked at Brienne.

“What about Robert?”

“If Robert had to call us, that means he can’t reach her.” Jaime deduced. “And if he did call Tyrion, what can he do? He’s out of the country right now. So it’s you and me, wife,” he gave her a small smile, his dimples deepening. “Well, mostly you.”

She looked at the house again and took a visible gulp. Despite the drop in the temperature, her pale, freckled forehead gleamed with sweat. Her plump lips were red from her biting them throughout the drive, and were not swollen and chapped. Jaime could read his wife easily since she had absolutely zero filter skills when it came to emotions revealed on her face.

Hoping to relax her, he murmured, “You want to kiss me for courage, wife?”

Brienne turned to him, her mouth opening to retort when she froze. She blinked at him then nodded quickly. 

Their kiss was a slow, almost hesitant brush of lips, as if they were kissing for the first time and still gauging each other. She let go of Jaime’s hand to cup his face, combing her fingers through his thick, golden hair and pulling him closer. He retreated just a bit to run his tongue around her mouth, the wetness of his tongue smoothing the rough and torn skin of her chapped lips. 

Confidence Jaime had in spades and she took her share from his lips. He let her, giving her more than she needed. His hand settled right where her heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings and he groaned. “It’s alright,” he whispered, licking once again before kissing her deeply. “You can do this.”

She pulled away, leaning her forehead against him. A hard huff of air bathed his mouth as she breathed.

“I believe you, husband.”

They got out of the car, each drawing their coats closer to their bodies. Jaime led the brick path toward the front door, Brienne following close behind. He raised the knocker and Robert was soon letting them in. Joffrey, hearing the front door open, raced toward them. 

“Aunt Brienne!” He exclaimed, his green eyes lighting up before throwing his arms around her waist. 

“Hey, there, Joff. How’s my little man?” Brienne greeted him, ruffling his thick dark hair playfully.

“I’m building a model of Castle Black,” Joffrey announced. “Will you help me?”

Before Brienne could answer, Robert told the boy, “In a bit, son. Brienne needs to have a word with your mother. Besides,” he added, playfully reproaching. “I thought we were doing it together.”

“Okay, Dad.” Joffrey grinned at him then waved at Jaime. “Uncle Jaime.” Then he trotted off.

“Thank you for coming,” Robert said, taking their coats. His handsome face was lined with worry. “I couldn’t. . .I don’t know how else to talk to her.”

Jaime’s lips were a hard line before exchanging a glance with Brienne. “That bad, huh?”

Robert looked resigned as he held their coat. “She’s freaking out. That’s my job.”

Brienne was puzzled. Freaking out was not exactly what she expected from Cersei. “Freaking out?”

Robert sighed loudly and put their coats in the closet. “We’re having twins.” 

 

 

Cersei was not freaking out, Brienne discovered shortly as she sat at the foot of a four-poster bed, watching her goodsister pace back and forth, wearing the carpet thin. Cersei was losing her mind.

Her golden waves hung past her shoulders, swinging with every turn. Beautiful, a flesh-and-blood goddess, really, with her emerald eyes and smooth, ivory skin, it was a bit disconcerting discovering that in bed, Cersei Baratheon wore an oversized shirt that was clearly her husband’s and baggy pajamas. Brienne knew she wasn’t really a fan of slinky nightgowns but her sleepwear was often the coordinated, matched kind. 

They yellow t-shirt she had on was the colour of egg yolks. There was a stag in front and next to it the words, “Ours is the fury.” Still, she would turn heads. 

Brienne’s head, however, was already being turned but not in the best way. 

“Cersei, you’re making me seasick. Sit down and let’s talk about this.”

Cersei stopped and turned to her. Her eyes big, she exclaimed, “Did you not hear one word of what I said? Brienne, I’m forty-fucking-five and I’m pregnant! With twins! Seriously, women my age are sending their kids off to college or have one grandchild. They don’t have twins!”

“Who said? And what is wrong with having twins at your age?” Brienne demanded.

Cersei put her hands on her waist and growled, “I don’t even care about never getting my old body back. It’s just that. . .what will people say? I’ll be fifty in five years. How do you expect me to run after twins? Either I’d throw my back out or break my hip!”

“You’re worrying over nothing. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Forty-five is not old and fifty isn’t. Women are delaying having children and become mothers much later.”  
“When you found out you were having twins, didn’t you freak out or, I don’t know, wanted to kill Jaime.” She pointed sharply at her stomach. “Because I’d castrate Robert right now if I could. This is his fault!”

“Cersei—“

“I mean, this is largely my fault because I didn’t do what we agreed upon. But you know, I never thought I’d get pregnant again. He should have told his swimmers to go easy.”

“You are seriously not making sense right now. And for the record, twins run in your family, not Robert’s.”

Cersei rolled her eyes and continued to glare at her. “You mean to tell me you were happy when you found out you were having twins?”

“A little freaked out, sure, but I didn’t think I’d get to be a mother. That didn’t figure in my plans at all. So to be a mother to not just one but two was very exciting.” Then Brienne frowned. “Although I hated how big I got starting on the sixth month. People thought I was going to give birth anytime. Then there’s also how I couldn’t find a good position to sleep in and it’s more than twice the effort. One child is a huge job already.”

“Precisely.”

Brienne looked at her. “But the thing is, Cersei, when they’re sweet and smile at you, it’s at least twice as good. And you forget about the stinking dump in the diaper that you swear came from a volcano. You forget about how when one cries the other does it louder and they get in some competition to shatter Mom’s eardrums.” Her face softened and her eyes shone. “You forget that you’re never going to remove the spit-up on your clothes. That they’re little sadists because they get a kick out of making you yell when they grab your hair. You get twice the hugs and sweetest smiles, and so many kisses you’ll lose count.” 

Cersei sat down next to her, looking conflicted. 

“I’m scared.” 

“You’d be crazy if you weren’t.”

“Oh, please!” Cersei scoffed. “You said you were a little freaked out but that’s all. And I feel so fucking old. There’s no question that I want these children. I love them. But I don’t know. . .I don’t know if I can take good care of them and still be a chief resident. I work double shifts. How am I going to do that now with two babies?”  
“You forget Robert.”

“Robert.” Cersei said thoughtfully. “You know, when he comes home early to take care of Joff, he’s the greatest husband and father in the world. It doesn’t reflect badly on him at all. Whereas if I come home early, it’s expected of me because I’m a mother. And it does affect my job because of the hours I’ll have to give up.” 

“I understand that. It’s like when Jaime takes our sons to the park and everyone thinks he’s so devoted and sweet. I mean, he is. But when it’s me, nobody thinks that way. I’m the mother. I should take them to the park.” 

Cersei sighed and threw up her hands. “I just don’t want to deal with something like that at my age, with the work I do, and being a mother of three.” 

Brienne patted her knee. “Society has yet to catch up with us, Cersei.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey. Freak out all you want. It’s your right. You have the right to do whatever you want, feel however you want, ask for whatever you want. You have to stop worrying about being too old and what people will think. It’s your rules, Cersei. Yours and Robert’s. Yeah, he’s part of this too. Maybe you should tell him how you feel about. . .expectations.”

“You and Jaime talk? Like, you tell him what you need?”

“We do. It’s a team effort, raising kids. It is as scary as it is wonderful, no matter how old you are, no matter how many children you have. But I have to admit, they’re a huge part of my happiness.” 

“I have to agree.” Cersei smiled at her and said, “Brienne? Thanks for coming over.”

“Glad I could help. Now let me give you a hug so I can congratulate you on having twins.”


	23. Wife and Best Friend (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime works overtime so Brienne drops by his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set a month before the events in Loving Harder and More, the first in The Lannisters Are Coming Series.

The offices of LSM Creatives were dark except for the splash of light in the far corner. Brienne knew her way around even without seeing everything completely so she made it to the door with no trouble. 

Before knocking on the door, she peeked through the window and smiled. As head of the creative department of the agency, their ads were all the products of Jaime’s mind. Winning the Advertisement of the Year for their Valyrian Beer ad had bolstered their name and brought in new clients. It was more work, and hiring more people was a slow process, but it meant LSM Creatives was going to survive. Advertising was very cutthroat, a constant battle for the biggest clients and most creative, memorable ads.  
She watched Jaime run his hand through his blond hair. It was long again, just about to brush his broad shoulders. His square jaw was outlined further by his trimmed beard. She bit her lip as he leaned forward on his desk, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt before typing. His suit jacket was draped on his chair and his tie loosened. Her husband loved what he did and worked hard. Nights like this were normal but she just really missed him tonight. Grinning, she tapped lightly on the glass.

Jaime looked up. The startled expression on his face crossing to pleasure was priceless. His dimples were deep grooves framing his widening, beautiful smile as he gestured her to enter. Brienne opened the door then squeaked as she was suddenly swept in his arms and engulfed in a passionate kiss. 

She moaned, throwing her arms around Jaime’s shoulders as she kicked the door shut. She clung as he slammed her against the door, their lips still fused. Pinned between the hard surface of the door and the unyielding, warm frame of Jaime’s body was never a bad place. There was little to do but hold him and kiss him, two of her favourite things to do. 

They were still kissing, his erection jabbing her against the stomach, when she felt her skirt slither to her ankles. She pulled away and Jaime smirked, flushed and looking too smug before he glanced at the lower part of her body clad only in white panties, the skirt at her ankles and the tips of her T-strapped navy-and-white flats peeking from under it. Her cheeks, already pink from when watching him earlier, were a hot, tomato-red when suddenly dropped to his knees and hooked his fingers on the edges of her underwear. His eyes darkened at the wet, sticky threads of her wanton desire clung and stretched as he pulled down her panties.

“Husband,” she managed to stutter. The word still felt new though she called him that more than his name lately. “I didn’t come for this,” she whispered as the scrap of clothing fell. She bit her lip as he shoved it in his pocket and grinned up at her, caressing the thick, corded strength of her freckled thighs.  
“No?” He mocked her playfully, kissing her right thigh before draping her leg over his shoulder. He pressed his face on her cunt with a hungry groan.

“I miss my husband. And I’m worried that he probably hasn’t had dinner yet,” she managed to answer through the loud pounding of her heart in her ears as he turned his head and sucked on the firm flesh of her inner thigh. Struggling to hold on to her diminishing reserves of sanity as he continued kissing and playfully biting her thighs, she gasped, “I mean to take you out to dinner.”

Her head knocked against the door when his tongue suddenly slid long and slowly up the dropping seam of her cunt. “Then why did you bring dessert first?”

“What? I don’t— _ooh._ ” 

From that point on, Brienne’s word was centered on Jaime’s lips and tongue on and in her cunt, his fingers joining in to spin the dew pooling inside her. A wave of heat swept her from head to toe as he hissed and gasped between carnal kisses that were undoing her. She dug her fingers in his clothed shoulders as he marveled about how wet she was. Bit her lip when he grunted how good she smelled, how delicious. So delicious. He lapped her up with the hunger of a bear discovering a bottomless honeypot.  
“My wife,” he breathed, stirring the curls of her cunt as his fingers found that spot and _destroyed her._

Her shriek echoed throughout the empty office, reminding her for the first time since drowning in Jaime’s kisses where they were. As he brought her down with gentle, barely-there flicks of tongue and brushes of his lips on her sodden cunt and slickened thighs, her legs began to collapse under her. She was barely able to murmur a warning before she was on the floor, pupils dilated, eyes heavily hooded from her orgasm. When Jaime crushed her mouth under his, she tasted herself on his tongue. She sighed and leaned heavily against him, moving onto his lap until she was straddling him. 

“It’s so sweet of you to come,” Jaime teased her, driving her to bury her head against his shoulder to hide her deeply flushed face. His chest rumbling with laughter shook against her own. Despite being weak and still seeing giant red spots, she managed to slap him quite strongly on the shoulder. He laughed again and began to move, rolling until she was lying on the floor under him. The floor was cold under her fever-warm skin but the way her was looking at her slowly lit her up from the tips of her toes then all the way up.

They kissed again, no urgency this time. He unbuttoned her blouse and she unknotted his tie so she could open his shirt and feel his rippling muscles under his tee. Their mouths met again, Jaime cradling her cheek in one hand while urging her leg to wrap around his hip. Realizing what he wanted, her hand slipped between them and reached for the zipper of his pants. His smile was gentle, his eyes bright yet dilated as her hand found his cock and stroked him. His head fell back before hunching forward to take her mouth again.

Thirty minutes later, they were waiting for their turn in a short line at Pizza Throne. It served the biggest pizzas in Westeros and was always full. It won’t be midnight for another half hour but the crowd was definitely fewer from during the day. 

Jaime had his arms wrapped around Brienne’s waist from behind while she leaned against him. They had fucked twice but there was no mistaking the erection poking at her behind. Jaime post-fucking was handsy and hornier, wanting and begging more. It made stopping a struggle since she felt the same. Their hunger for each other would be temporarily abated but once the last embers of the afterglow had ebbed away, there was that want again, burning and insatiable and consuming. Their bodies were humming yet again but only their will to stop and hunger for actual food put a pause to the explorations they longed for.Jaime kept distracting her with deep whiffs of her nape and behind the ears, licking her neck and sucking the skin.

When it was their turn to order, the guy behind the counter raised his eyebrows at them though his expression was bland. Brienne wished she didn’t blush easily but it was done. There was no need for intense scrutiny to know what they had been doing before arriving at Pizza Throne. Their hair was brushed but Brienne was still pink. Her gray sweater had no buttons so while it hid the wrinkles at the back of her blouse and skirt, there was nothing to do about the ones in front. Jaime’s pants fared no better as did his shirt. His jacket was so smooth in comparison his suit looked mismatched. He also wore a cocky, satisfied and arrogant smirk.

But the strongest evidence of their fucking was still smeared on Brienne’s thighs. Her cunt felt hollow and open. She had wiped Jaime’s semen off her thighs but it was still dripping. She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat while Jaime stood beside her, his arm locked around her waist. The Pizza Throne guy then schooled his face and welcomed them.

“We’ll have two Iron specials, both with extra cheese, and two Valyrian beers,” Jaime told him. “Throw in large Braavosi nachos and Lyseni spicy wings too, please.” Brienne glanced at him, and he shrugged innocently. “The floor exercise gave me an appetite, wife.” Then he turned back to the guy and said, “We’d also like a slice of raspberry cream cheesecake.”

“Not two?” 

“It’s his favourite,” Brienne replied, reaching into her purse for her wallet. “I wouldn’t dare ask him to share,” she added in an exaggerated whisper. "I'll have a chocolate chip cookie." 

“Hey, look at you picking up the tab,” Jaime teased. “I kind of like seeing you do that.” He grinned at the counter guy. “Now that we’re married, she pays when we go out.”  
She hit him on the arm and handed over the money to the grinning guy. Then they hunted for a booth, holding hands. She pointed to a table outside. The night was pleasantly cool and the sky bright with stars. She pulled Jaime behind her.

Their table, rather than separate chairs, was paired with a metal bench. Jaime sank against it as if it was a worn, comfortable sofa, spreading his arms. Brienne leaned back, the back of her neck pillowed by his arm and sighed. 

“A good thing you got me out of the office, wife,” Jaime said, prompting her to look at him. “I would have stayed there until midnight.”

“What are you working on right now?” She asked, sitting up then crossing her legs. 

“We’re doing a presentation for Raven Communications in a few days,” Jaime said. “Word on the street is they’re looking to change agencies. Addam got us a slot to present.”  
No wonder he was staying late. Brienne understood and wouldn’t berate him for it. However, they have been married for only a little over a month. They have been living together before that but it was different being with him now that he was her husband. Things were just better and hard to be without. 

“So what are you thinking about? We can talk it out, if you like,” she offered. “It might help clear your head.” 

Jaime looked excited and happy. “Really? I mean, yeah, that’s great. Sure!”

So they discussed his ideas. Not all of them were good, but two or three had potential because the concept was fresh and promised to be memorable. They continued to talk as their food was served, until they were finished and driving home. As Jaime navigated through a light evening traffic, he reached across to squeeze her knee.

“I’m sorry for coming home late these last couple of days, wife,” he told her as they waited for the red light to turn green. “We’re recently married and look at me neglecting you already,” he added, half-jokingly. Despite his grin, Brienne saw the regret in his eyes.

“It’s not like you do it often,” she said, patting his hand. “Besides,” she added, “there’s the four days I’ll be in Braavos to present my paper.”

It was her first conference as an instructor at King’s Landing University-Westeros. The university would be funding fifty percent of her expenses, which was great. But what excited her was the opportunity to present her research and make her mark in the field. She got the confirmation of her abstract’s acceptance three months before their wedding. Now that the date was approaching, the thrill she once had had dimmed. It meant being away from Jaime for four days. It felt torturously long.

“I wish I can go with you,” Jaime said, releasing her knee as the light changed. He started driving again. He threw her a side grin. “Or I should be coming home earlier.”

“Hey, look how this night turned out anyway,” she reassured him, playing with the tips of his hair. 

“Fucking my new wife on the floor and post-coitus pizza works, I guess,” Jaime said, smiling smugly. Brienne rolled her eyes. “Damn, I just wish this meeting with Raven Communications is done already. I hate it when I come home and you’re already asleep.”

Brienne’s heart was full of love for him. So, as awkward as it was, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. 

Jaime pulled over their slot in their building’s underground parking. As Brienne unbuckled her belt, she took a deep breath and asked, “Husband,” hoping her voice wasn’t shaking, “um, you’re not very tired are you?”

Though it was dark, she could make out the brilliant whiteness of Jaime’s teeth. “Hmm. It depends on what you have in mind, wife. If it’s to fold the laundry, I’m bushed. But if it’s something more vigorous. . .”

She laughed and said, “Cleaning the bathroom, perhaps?”

“Come on.”

They got out of the car and Brienne continued, linking her arm through his as they headed for the elevator. “Maybe alphabetizing my books?” She whispered in his ear.

“You’re lucky I find you crazy sexy, wife or I’ll think you’re just cruel.” Jaime growled when they reached the elevator. He pressed their floor number and Brienne whispered in his ear again. This time, his smile was from ear to ear.

Suffice it to say that once they reached their apartment, Brienne initiated the first round of this vigorous activity, to Jaime’s roaring approval. After that it wasn’t clear who brought them to the next round and the one after that, and the one after that.

And neither of them got much sleep—a small price to pay with a great return. 

Make that twice the return a few months later, when Dr. Jeyne Westerling-Stark, Brienne’s ob-gyn, turning away from the screen of the ultrasound, told them they were having twins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that, my folks, was how Drew and Ty were conceived, right on the floor of Jaime's advertising agency. Brienne thinks she got pregnant when she was sick (as referenced in Hear Them Roar) because she was off the pill at that time. But pills don't work 100% of the time and judging by how much they have sex, well . . .(shrugs and grins sheepishly)
> 
> Adds in a stage whisper: If my show!guess is right, Jaime and Brienne do it on a table the first time. There has to be a reason there's always a table between them, right?


	24. Little Bree to the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tarth uncles are too casual for Jaime and Brienne's engagement party.

Selwyn and his brothers, Galladon, Duncan and Endrew flew to from Tarth for Jaime and Brienne’s engagement party. It was going to be held at the Dragon Hotel, which was right in the heart of the city of King’s Landing. 

Arrangements were made for adjoining suites for Galladon, Duncan and Endrew, while Selwyn was off to the lone guest room at the apartment his daughter shared with Jaime. 

The engagement party was an event everyone was looking forward to but Jaime and Brienne had been tensed for the last three days, since Selwyn’s arrival. There was no question that they welcomed him. Brienne, always an industrious student, was way ahead in her classes and could skip a couple of days. Jaime left work early to take his goodfather-to-be around, glad that they now got along. 

An hour before the engagement party, Jaime arrived home, the suit he was going to wear wrapped in a leather case that he had slung over his shoulder. He opened the bedroom door just as Brienne was bent stepping into ridiculously tiny, sheer black panties that she had definitely bought for the occasion. He had memorized every pair of panties she had and they were all blue or white cotton. He closed the door softly but Brienne still heard the click and she whirled around with a startled cry. 

Jaime leaned against the door and grinned at her wolfishly, taking in her slicked-back straw-blond hair shorn to her ears just a couple of weeks ago, her big, sapphire eyes, the lovely pink flush spreading form her forehead down to her chest. His cock twitched eagerly in his pants at the sight of her pale breasts, splashed heavily with freckles and tipped with the sweetest nipples that were now tightening under his scrutiny. Brienne glared at him and quickly covered her breasts, shy and modest despite his having tasted and possessed every inch of her. His gaze lingered on the sheer panties, made up of straps and a narrow panel that couldn’t contain the wild, thick cluster of dirty-blond pubic curls. Sheer black stockings stretched from the top of her thighs down her toes.

“Holy Seven Hells, Brienne. You look absolutely phenomenal.” Despite leering at her, she saw the genuine admiration in his eyes. But Jaime Lannister wouldn’t be the man she loved if not for the naughty gleam as well.” I seriously hope that’s not all you’ll be wearing to the party,” he drawled, putting the bag at the foot of the bed and unzipping it. “But in our bedroom, I expect you to wear a lot less.”

Brienne, still covering her breasts, rolled her eyes and turned her back to him. She opened the closet to take out her dress. “You’re late. You had me worried.”

“Sorry,” he said, walking to her and kissing her on the shoulder. She closed her eyes, humming softly. As she unzipped her dress, he fingered the strap of her underwear. “This is new.”

“Renly told me to buy some appropriate underwear,” Brienne answered, blushing as he walked around until he was standing behind her. He grinned against her nape before kissing it. The entire span of her back flushed pink.

They haven’t fucked in three days out of respect for Selwyn, so it was damned frustrating having to keep his hands to himself. Brienne turned to give him a quick, consoling kiss on the lips then whispered he had to get ready as he was already late. 

He groaned and let her go. “Remind me again how our fathers got us to agree to throw an engagement party.”

She laughed and wagged a finger at him. “I _told_ you we should have just gone off to Braavos.”

Engaged for two years and set to marry in Tarth next month, time was both faster and slower. They didn’t get married right away because both wanted to do things for themselves first, Jaime with building LSM Creatives from the ground up, Brienne with her Master’s. Two years ago, LSM Creatives won Best Advertisement of the Year and had been nominated again in the category, as well as Best Advertising Agency of the Year for the first time. Brienne graduated with honors and an award for Best Thesis, which became her calling card to top universities. But she would remain in King’s Landing University-Westeros because it was home, in more ways she thought it would mean. She had also begun her PhD last year. 

Achieving what they wanted meant having to achieve more and work harder but they promised to each other never to delay the wedding any longer than necessary. Brienne, dreading looking like a giant meringue in a fluffy dress, had fantasies of running of to Braavos for a quickie wedding. Jaime didn’t care if he got married in jeans or a suit, as long as he made Brienne officially his. 

Unfortunately, their fathers were stubborn and traditional men. Tywin looked like he was about to have a heart attack when Brienne made a weak, half-joke about taking friends to Braavos and going to one of the little churches there. Selwyn, whose approval Jaime had just won, gave him a look of such disapproval that he felt like an ant about to smashed under his boot. Galladon, Endrew and Duncan were horrified as well, insisting that “it wasn’t right” and that their baby niece was “no tavern wench to be married like that.” Jaime didn’t want to be beaten up by them so he had to convince Brienne about the beauty of a traditional wedding. He had to throw in six months of doing the dishes and a month of serving her waffles in bed to sway her.

As Jaime huffed away and readied his suit before he started removing the one he was wearing, Brienne stepped into her dress. She shimmied it up to her hips, unaware of the   
show she was giving her dry-mouthed fiancé. 

As Jaime had requested, her dress was the colour of a deep sapphire, with thin straps, a square neckline and a low back. The skirt was a respectable knee-length but with a slit that went a little above her left knee. Brienne was not really into dresses and had little idea what looked good on her. Renly had gone shopping with her and after a day of disagreeing over one dress after the next, they saw this and knew it was for her. Brienne wasn’t sure about showing off a lot of skin and freckles but she knew Jaime would love her in it. He celebrated her body, broad, muscular, mannish as it was, and was delighted when she showed it off. When she turned around, she saw the admiration once again in his eyes, but this time without the leer.

Cheeks pink, she asked shyly, “What do you think?”

Jaime cleared his throat. “You’re beating me by a good mile in the looks department, honey,” he said, saying it in a way that told her he was not joking at all. They knew what she looked like. “”I’d better catch up.”

He kissed her on the cheek on his way to the bathroom, murmuring that she should see for herself how beautiful she was. Ridiculous, of course he would say that. Still, she turned to look at herself in the mirror.

Oh. Well, that was an improvement, she thought, refusing to take a closer look at herself. Instead she quickly applied make-up then went to Selywn’s room.

“Dad?” She knocked on the door. “Can I come in?”

The door opened and she blinked up at her father.

Six-foot-six, with an erect, firm spine at his age, Selwyn Tarth looked very distinguished and elegant in his soft gray tailored suit, white shirt and blue-and-silver striped tie. Brienne grinned at how the blue matched her dress.

“So?” Selwyn asked. “Do I pass muster?”

She nodded. “You look great, Dad.” 

“Thank you, my dear. You look lovely, yourself,” Selwyn told her then proceeded to put on his watch. Following him to the living room, he asked, “Where’s Jaime?”

“Oh, he’s getting ready.” She replied vaguely. Jaime took around thirty minutes in the shower, ten minutes to do his hair. He would moisturize, put on cologne, then get dressed. Brienne was used to this but Selwyn didn’t like to be kept waiting.

When she peeked into their bedroom five minutes later, she was surprised to find Jaime already out, a towel worn low on his lips and just looking positively, irritatingly sinful. He was pulling out a shirt from their closet and glanced at her. With a smirk, he retorted, “Changed your mind after all, didn’t you?”

Blushing, she stammered, “Uh, my Dad’s waiting?”

“Oh.” Jaime started moving briskly. He pulled off the towel and Brienne gulped audibly. She narrowed her eyes when he shot her a knowing look.

“My Raspberry Bree, much as I like being with you naked in any room, now isn’t exactly the right time.”

“Oh, shut up,” she growled, heading for the door as he laughed.

Ten minutes later, Jaime sauntered out of the bedroom as if stepping off the cover of Westeros Quarterly. She was touched that he was wearing a blue suit to match her. He gave Brienne his arm, his gaze frank with male appreciation yet also loving and charmed. Brienne ducked her head and they left the apartment, Selwyn trailing behind them.  
They arrived early in the Rhaenys Room of the Dragon Hotel. Surprisingly, Brienne’s uncles weren’t there. Jaime offered to take Selwyn to the hotel bar for a drink while she checked on them. 

Brienne knocked on the door of their suite and it was swept open immediately. Endrew, or Endwarf as his brothers called him because he was the shortest at six-foot-two, smiled at her. He was wearing a loud, short-sleeved shirt with what appeared to be a pink-and-green paisley pattern, worn khaki shorts and socks with sandals.

“My little Bree!” He greeted her, engulfing her in a tight embrace. “My, look at you!”

Brienne laughed as she was lifted briefly before being set down. “Hey, why aren’t you dressed yet?’ She asked him as she entered the suite. She smiled at Duncan, or Dunk. He had the sleeves of his army-green shirt rolled to his elbows, and wore gray slacks and brown loafers. 

“The party is in twenty minutes, Uncle Dunk!” Brienne admonished him as they hugged. 

“You’re looking really sweet and fine, Little Bree,” Uncle Galladon said as he emerged from the adjoining suite. He was wearing a short-sleeved checked shirt, jeans and loafers. “Get over here and let me hug you.”

Brienne rolled her eyes but playfully before she threw her arms around her favourite uncle. As they hugged, she said, “Seriously, guys, you should start getting ready.”  
“We’re ready,” Duncan said. “But you do look smashing, Bree. A tad overdressed but hey, you’re the star of the night.”

“Overdressed? You aren’t seriously going to the engagement party like that?” Brienne pointed out.

“It’s not like we’ve gone to one before,” Galladon reminded her.

Brienne frowned. “Didn’t you see it on the invitation?”

Endrew shrugged. “We just looked at the date and time and place. Why? Don’t tell us we have to be in penguin suits.”

“It’s not that sort of party, uncle, but you do have, to, uh, take it up a few more notches,” Brienne said, trying not to be rude as she stared helplessly at his footwear. 

“We don’t have suits,” Duncan said. “None of us have worn suits in years.”

Brienne put her hands on her waist. “I’m getting married next month. You have to be in a suit.”

“That’s next month!”

“Really, guys, I’m not kidding. Dad and Jaime are, like, dressed to kill. You know, like Miami Vice in a cocktail party.” 

Brienne started to sweat as they continued to look at her blankly. Except for Uncle Endrew, the rest of her uncles were not of the conventional size. Even then, it was going to be tricky. 

Telling herself not to panic, Brienne pulled out her phone.

 

The engagement party didn’t start until twenty minutes past the time, which was not unusual. Brienne had her hands full ensuring that her uncles were not only dressed but presentable. It meant having to think a little outside the box, but it was done.

The moment Brienne started making phone calls, the wheels started turning. As she had suspected, the hotel shop only had suits that could fit Endrew. Selwyn took his brother shopping there, rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath that he deserved to be shot for wearing that atrocious pink-and-green shirt in public. Because Selwyn believed in being over-prepared, he had an extra suit back in the apartment. Jaime drove back there to pick it up, as well as a shirt. Selwyn and Galladon were the same height but Selwyn was lean and Galladon beefy. As long as Galladon didn’t make sudden movements, the suit would survive the night.

Her next call was to Cersei. Robert was Duncan’s height at six-foot-four. Fortunately, both mean were slim though muscular. Brienne hugged her goodsister-to-be and her husband tightly when she met them in the lobby to take the suit. 

Brienne also had to call the hotel beauty salon to send for some aestheticians. Her uncles were neat and orderly but they did need grooming in some areas. The walls of the suite shook and came close to crashing from their combined howls that was a mix of laughter and foul cries as eyebrows were plucked and shaped, nose and ear hairs pulled, cuticles pushed and feet scrubbed. Jaime, who went to the room to check on Brienne, winced as Duncan, often quiet and soft-spoken, wailed as he was pinned to his seat by the shoulders by a harried-looking assistant for the aesthetician to yank out a long, gray hair from his nostril.

When the uncles were presented to Brienne, their eyes were a little watery from the lingering pain but it was worth it. Brienne couldn’t help but smirk with pride as they entered the Rhaenys Room, looking very tall and very dapper. 

It was with relief that she collapsed in Jaime’s arms in the dance floor a while later. The announcement had been made, cheers given. There was more than enough delicious food and there was so much champagne. Over Jaime’s shoulder, she saw Renly Baratheon taking his goodsister Cersei for a spin in the dance floor. Her cheeks were pink and she was giggling more than usual but she was clearly having a good time. 

Robert and Selwyn were talking, their faces animated. Tywin remained at his table with Tyrion. The Lannister men were in a serious conversation with Addam Marbrand and his wife, Ashara. Bronn was laughing at something Uncle Duncan was saying. From the way they were looking at the dance floor, they were watching Bronn’s wife Lollys dancing with Galladon. Oberyn Martell was dancing with his wife Ellaria when he suddenly got a call. As she prettily pouted, he kissed her on the lips and waved Uncle Endrew over. Ellaria’s dark eyes lit up and she resumed dancing with him.

Everyone was having a good time and Brienne was glad. Elegant parties such as this and her hardly mixed. She pulled a bit away to look at Jaime, her eyes sparkling. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it before returning to the warm circle of his arms. She was happy and content.

The band was playing a lively instrumental but they stuck to swaying gently, like the languid waves of the sea on a beautiful day. She shivered with delight as Jaime’s hands skimmed the wide swath of her back bared by her dress.

“It’s too bad Jon couldn’t make it,” he murmured against her shoulder, nibbling then kissing it.

“He’s busy,” Brienne answered with a little shrug. It was annoying that one of her best friends in the world not only missed her engagement but wouldn’t be coming to her wedding too. But she understood that he had previous professional commitments. Still, she couldn’t help but be tempted to ask him to prioritize their friendship every now and then. She sighed and rested her chin on Jaime’s shoulder.

“You alright there, my Raspberry Bree?” 

“Just a little tired. My uncles threw me off for a bit there,” she admitted. Then she pinched him. “And don’t call me that.”

“But look how well it turned out,” he said, nodding at where her uncles were. He smiled at her. “Wife, you astound me everyday.”

Brienne paused and looked at him. “Uh, what did you just call me?”

Jaime grinned and kissed her full and quick on the mouth. “My wife. Suits you well, don’t you think?”

She blushed and returned her chin on his shoulder.

“Fuck, but one month is so far away,” he complained, brushing his lips on her ear and down the side of her warm neck. “Maybe you were right about Braavos.”

“Oh, husband, accept that in all matters I will always be. Fight it as hard as you must but in the end, I’ll always win,” Brienne teased him, turning her head briefly so their lips could touch. 

Jaime bit her lower lip lightly then asked, “You called me husband.”

“Hmm. That I did.”

“I like it.” 

“That’s a relief,” she joked.

Jaime smirked then glanced to his side. Before Brienne realized what he was doing, he was dragging her behind a pillar. Then she was trapped between the marble slab and his hard, warm body, her mouth opening to receive his kiss. “Jaime,” she moaned throatily, cupping his face eagerly and lifting her leg to wrap around his hip.

“That’s my favourite thing to come out of your mouth, wife,” he murmured happily. “After your tongue. I mean, that you love me and then your tongue. But my name first. Say it again, wife.” 

“Jaime,” she whispered as her eyes twinkled wickedly. “You’re a narcissistic prick.” 

"Fuck. _So sexy._ "

He cupped her hip and she gasped, feeling the familiar hard bulge of his arousal. He grinned at her and raised her skirt. 

“Seriously, Jaime? Here?” She demanded, both outraged and exhilarated at the prospect. “The band is just on the other side! There’s people all over!”

“As long as they keep playing in that volume, we don’t have to worry about your sexy exultations regarding my prick,” Jaime said before kissing her again. He looked hungrily at her red face as he pushed her skirt higher. She bit her lip as his fingers fluttered to the damp front of her underwear. “I didn’t get a good look earlier, wife. I’d really love to see these Renly-recommended panties now."

There was nothing she could do but laugh and surrender to his kisses. She knew she should protest but why fight what she wanted? And gods, three days without fucking him was driving her mad. 

As zippers were dragged down and fabric rustled, and the band played on, she whispered hotly in his hear, “Next time we fuck, try not to mention another man’s name, husband?” Then she pushed her tongue inside.

Jaime saw stars as he groaned, “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Slowly, Towards You, At Last, the uncles' nickname for Brienne was Little Bree.


	25. Jaime to the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne switch. Fluff alert!

Getting pregnant so soon after the honeymoon was not part of the plan but Jaime and Brienne welcomed the news with a happiness they never thought possible. She blushed at the knowing looks they got from friends when they revealed the twins’ birth date, which was two months before their first anniversary. 

Drew and Ty were born two days part their predicted date of birth. Pink-cheeked, sapphire-eyed, plump and long-legged despite being merely a few weeks old, the twins certainly didn’t waste time catching up. Brienne had successfully defended her dissertation proposal exactly a week before giving birth and was dreading about having to change her framework or even doing the most minute revisions. Her advisor, Catelyn Stark, gave her the good news that her thesis was ready for defense. She needed some revisions, but more along the lines of fine-tuning a few sections by way of deletion or rephrasing. An easy enough task. 

For one who didn’t have humans latched to your breasts in order to live, nappies to change, laundry to do, bottles to wash and sterilize, among many things. Selwyn was there for two weeks, which helped a lot but just as Brienne would summon the rigor to start revising, a baby would cry. Jaime would take over at night but he didn’t exactly have boobs. Drew and Ty loathed the bottle and would cry. When he could, he left work as early as four in the afternoon.

For the first time in weeks, Brienne’s body was attuned to her babies. When they slept, her body soon followed. They seemed to be sleeping longer so she allowed herself a half hour nap before doing some revisions, the laundry, clean-up. They could afford a nanny but at this early stage, Brienne was possessive about bonding with her children.  
She leaned against the headboard of the bed. She was bare from the waist up, for the first time in her life having little to zero modesty because a shirt just got tangled around her arms and she couldn’t hold her babies properly. She shifted and adjusted herself to the right position, thick and firm pillows stacked behind her. Then with a smile, though tired, she carefully scooped her babies in her strong arms, placed them carefully at her breasts. Soon, the room was filled with the wet sounds of suckling. 

Jaime managed to leave work earlier than usual. He didn’t call out for his wife as he usually would since the babies were asleep around this time. As he dropped his keys in a bowl on the kitchen counter, he frowned. The apartment was quiet, too quiet. On the sink was an unwashed bowl still sticky from the fruits it held. Brienne’s lunch, he realized, his frown deepening as he approached. There was still the stack of dishes from breakfast, glasses, mugs, utensils, baby bottles.

His wife was a healthy eater but since giving birth, her eating habits were all over and she would just wolf down whatever was close by. She hardly cooked now because it was extra work she wasn’t really willing to do. 

From the kitchen, he saw that the open door of the twins’ bedroom, showing empty cribs. Their strollers were there, which meant they were with his wife, in their room. As he went there, Jaime took note of the plushy toys scattered on the floor of the living room, a burpee blanket, a tiny mitten, a baby blanket. 

He opened the door of their room and there the babies were, with Brienne. She was sound asleep, her mouth half-open as she sat against the pillows. Despite her slack facial features, her hold on Drew and Ty was firm. They were asleep too, golden heads nestled against her breasts, their fists grasping her breasts . Gently, Jaime pried the first baby away from her arms. He held his breath, going to their room one step at a time, a snoozing baby in his arms. He smoothed the pale blond cap of curls on Ty’s soft head before he put his son down in his crib. Then he returned to get Drew, and again walked one step at time, sweating bullets because if the baby woke up, so would Brienne.

He returned to their room and sat by her hip, his eyes soft with love and awe at the woman sleeping peacefully. Even in sleep there was no softening of Brienne. Her nipples were swollen, cracked berries, with milk still leaking. He rubbed them dry with a blanket with the lightest motions then started pulling it up to her shoulders. Blue eyes heavy with interrupted sleep blinked up at him and Jaime put a finger to his lips, smiling. 

She smiled back at him and whispered, “I’m not hallucinating you, am I, husband?”

“Nope.” He whispered back, tucking errant strands of her rough hair behind her ear. “Sleep.” He kissed her on the forehead.

She hummed then, with a strength that still surprised him, pulled him down next to her. “Stay,” she murmured.

She lifted the blanket so he could slid in beside her. Once settled, they kissed, a tender brush of lips. Jaime pressed her to his chest and it was there that she fell asleep, snoring softly. Suppressing a chuckle, he carefully deposited her on her side of the bed. He drew the blanket to her chin then padded out of the room.

For the next hour, Jaime picked up the toys and cleaned up. When he heard the first whimper that promised a mighty cry heard all the way to the seventh hell, he dashed to the twins’ room and picked up Drew. His diaper was dry and clean but his shirt was a little damp with sweat. As Jaime was changing him, Ty started waking up.  
Brienne woke up with a jolt. The sun was still bright and from the time on the clock, there were still a couple of hours before sunset. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, feeling refreshed for the first time after a long while. A note was placed on the bedside table. 

_Took the wee devils out. Rest and don’t worry. Love you, J._

So she hadn’t dreamed of her husband at all, Brienne thought happily. She should feel a little left out that her boys were out while she was at home but didn’t. Rather, she felt relief and gratitude. The gods bless Jaime for stepping in just when I needed him to, she thought as she pulled on a shirt and buttoned it halfway up. 

Having no idea when Jaime and their sons left, Brienne quickly parked herself behind her desk to work on her revisions. Knowing that there won’t be a baby crying and guilting her for not responding immediately opened up her mind. It was fortunate she didn’t have to do additional research but there were a few areas that Professor Stark pointed out in the margins that she had to clarify. Brienne returned to her notes and did the recommended revisions. So inspired was she that she returned to the very beginning of her dissertation just to check and make sure.

When she looked up to check the time, only an hour and a half had passed yet so much had been done. She shook her head in disbelief, grinning to herself. Professor Stark instructed her to email her the revisions before she made the final copy that was going to be distributed to her panel. As soon as Brienne did that, she was on her feet and rummaging the kitchen cupboards for something to cook. There was a package of fettucine pasta, a carton of cream. In the fridge was a small block of parmesan and bacon. Turkey bacon, she was glad to discover.

The fettucine was in boiling water and Brienne was chopping up garlic when Jaime wheeled in the strollers ten minutes later. Brienne’s smile stretched from ear to ear as she met her family. “Hello, my loves,” she greeted her sons, marveling at their pink cheeks and bright blue eyes so much like hers. They gave her adorable gummy smiles, made even more so with their father’s dimples. She dropped on her knees to kiss them before straightening up to pull Jaime in her arms.

“Thank you,” she whispered as his arms went around her. She kissed him on the cheek, still embracing him. “You are so great, you know that?” Moved so by his gesture, she felt tears prick her eyes. To her embarrassment, they dripped down her cheeks, hitting Jaime on the shoulder.

“Wife, you’re actually crying?” He teased her as he set her away from him. His hands fell to her waist as he squeezed her. “That’s so sweet.”

Laughing, she slapped him on the arm. “Shut up.” 

More tears fell as he grabbed her again for another deep, long embrace. With a sigh, she collapsed against him. She smirked as she rubbed her nose on the sleeve of his shirt. “You have no idea what you did for me, Jaime.” 

“You would have done the same,” he told her, rubbing her back as he kissed her on the temple. Then he stepped back a bit to press another kiss on her lips. Sighing happily, she gently cupped his face. They looked at each other intently, understanding clear even without a single word.

“We always look out for each other, Brienne.” He said, brushing her tears away from her cheeks. 

“I know. I just. . .I’m just so grateful.” Biting her lip, she added, “I did it. I did the revisions and sent them to Catelyn.”

His eyes sparkled with pride. “That’s wonderful! I’m proud of you.”

“And for the first time since writing my dissertation, I’m sure I’m going to slay during the defense. Like, I’m going to own the room. Oh, husband, you made that possible.” Another stream of tears fell and they both laughed. 

“You give me too much credit,” he chided her mockingly. “But I’m glad you feel that way. I may not know much about literature, wife, but haven’t I been telling you from the start you’re going to rock it? It’s nice to see that you finally believe me. Or more importantly,” he added, suddenly serious, “that you’re beginning to believe in yourself. You’re smart and you’re the authority of your study, Brienne. Those schmucks in your panel just want to make sure, that’s all.”

“Professor Stark,” she declared, “is not a schmuck.”

“No,” Jaime agreed. “But the rest of them are.”

They smiled at each other again before Jaime turned to their sons. Drew and Ty had fallen asleep.

“Well, it seems a walk in the park works for them,” he remarked.

“I’ll take them,” Brienne offered.

“Don’t you even think about it,” Jaime told her sternly though his eyes were warm. “I’m taking them to bed and you,” he added, with a sniff, “will see to that delicious dinner I smell.”

“I haven’t done any shopping this week,” she confessed, blushing. “It’s just carbonara.”

Jaime cocked an eyebrow. “Pasta and bacon and cheese? It isn’t _just_ carbonara, wife.” 

She affected a nonchalant shrug. “We’ve been eating our food out of boxes, Jaime. I thought I’d show my thanks with a home-cooked meal.”

“Consider me thanked and excited,” Jaime said. Another kiss then he was wheeling the stroller to the twins’ room.

Brienne looked after them, her heart in her eyes. Jaime might think that he only did as expected of a husband but it was so much more than that. We always look out for each other, he said. Yes, they did, they always have. Unlike some couples who struggle with putting the other first every now and then, this was always seamless for them. It wasn’t that they never had to tell the other what was needed, they still did. But it was the ease with which they took over, relieving the other of a burden without needing to be told and never demanding a return. Doing it just because.

She laughed as the tears flowed again. She would be fool to be unaffected over the fact that Jaime, by just being himself, giving, generous and really, the best person she knew no matter how many times he denied it, had saved her. 

Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, another one in the bag!  
> I'm thinking of a possible sequel to this, Jaime to the Rescue. But since I have two fanfics to finish (one is, anyway), if I do this sequel, it's going to be shorter. It might be one-shot or maybe five chapters. Hopefully less. :-)
> 
> I'm so thankful with the people who comment, leave kudos and make the time to read my work. I'm unbeta'd and an offer and two has been made. But since the pace with how I work is insane and I tend to be quite the nag, I think, right now, it's preferable that I don't have one. Someday, maybe, but I'll have to develop some discipline first. Nothing embarrasses me more than when someone offers to do something nice and I can't deliver what's expected. Thank you for those offers. You're at the top of my list when I have a better sense of discipline.
> 
> I don't think the Lannisters Are Coming would be ending--unless one of them die in the show and/or books and my heart just won't be able to take it. This is my favourite of the J/B modern AUs I've written. If you notice, I've been updating this again because man, I hate the dark places my mind goes to sometimes. So the fluff and sexy times (LOTSA SEXY TIMES!) helps me write and feel less guilty with the things J/B go through in, say, The Affair (I wonder if GRRM's muse comes my way sometimes with what happens in that series).
> 
> I had connectivity issues last week but things look to be stable now. I know there are readers who are on the edge of their seats with WCA and The Affair. I will be posting the updates. I was ready a few weeks ago but those connectivity issues told me that maybe I should give them another look before posting. I'm a little superstitious with signs so I did. I don't know if the versions I'll be uploading are better but I'm a bit more satisfied. 
> 
> I also want to get the updates out of the way since I just started grad school. So there's going to be less updates from me after The Affair and WCA. But I hope that more will post J/B fanfics! Please do. I love, love reading them and J/B Week 2016 has a bunch of really awesome work. I read them to give my poor brain a break from school. They're my lifeline! I live for those fanfics.
> 
> So. I'll end this idiotic rambling. As I said, another one in the bag. But I can never thank you enough for your support. Still, let me try.
> 
> Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. 
> 
> .

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea of everyone leaning on Brienne. Poor thing.


End file.
